Unlikely friends Chapter 32: Undercover, a harry potter fanfic

Chapter 32 - Undercover

A few months later

Logan made his way down the street lazily, his hands tucked into the folds of his robes. It was ten minutes past midnight, but he wasn't in any rush. If Avery couldn't even bother to confirm Logan was available attend his… summons, without ruining his own plans, he could very well wait.

He turned to the Knockturn Alley, that was mostly deserted at that time, his long black cloak lightly brushing the floor as he climbed down the few steps into the narrow street.

He found the carved wooden sign with the letters "The Spiny Serpent" and a long black snake on the bottom. It was a warm night, so he was glad to find the person he was meeting sitting outside.

He wasn't so glad when he realized who was waiting for him. His expression hardened and he curled his fingers around his wand immediately. The face that had been haunting him since his failure at the Ministry, and especially since he'd seen the news on the Daily Prophet's gossip section months ago was now, finally, in front of him. There was only one thought in his mind as he approached the table, glancing around to check his surroundings.

Ezra didn't bother to check his ornate silver pocket watch for the time; he knew, simply by the hollow chime of the clock tower in the distance, that Logan was late. It didn't bother him, not really. He had time. He'd made certain he would.

He, too, was wearing long black robes. They were open at the front, revealing a crisp black summer suit underneath. He was clean-shaven, and his pale skin glowed in the dim light of the streetlamp nearby. He was elegantly reclined in a molded metal chair by a matching table which had aged silver serpents for legs. On the table was a mug of black coffee. Between his thin, well-manicured fingers, a cigarette.

He heard footsteps approaching, and, without so much as tilting his head, heard them stop abruptly. He heard the shuffling of robes, and he could feel the thickness in the air that only came with tension unabated.

His dark eyes, black in the midnight, shifted to the side, and he caught Logan Hawke in his peripheral vision. He held up his empty hands slowly, to show that he was unarmed. Smoke wafted from his cigarette and curled into the thick air.

"I wouldn't make a spectacle, if I were you," he purred, lowering the cigarette to his lips again and taking a slow, luxurious inhale. "I think you'll find what I have to say worthwhile."

Logan inhaled sharply as his eyes followed Ezra's empty hands, focusing on the gleam of a wedding band, but he gave no sign of the cold iron hand that closed around his gut.

He forced himself to relax enough to take a seat in front of Greengrass, leaning back and resting his elbows on the arms of his chair. There was only one piece of information he wanted from Greengrass before he killed him.

"Unless you're here to tell me where my sister is, I truly doubt that. But, since we're now family," he said the word with a heavy note of disdain, his eyes flicking back to that bloody ring before focusing on Greengrass's face again. "I will listen."

Ezra took another drag of his cigarette and offered a small, wry smile as Logan lowered into the chair across from him. The street was dark and empty now; an owl hooted in the distance.

"Daniella is at home," he said, blowing out a cloud of white smoke. "Resting. Her feet swell if she's on them too long – you know how pregnancy can affect a woman."

He let that tidbit of information sink in for a moment. After he was sure that Logan had been given plenty of time to process, he extinguished his cigarette on the edge of the table and laced his hands in front of him.

"I never got the chance to thank you properly for murdering my parents," he murmured. A small, easy smile crept onto his lips. "It was perfect timing. They'd been letting the money run dry, and had so outlived their usefulness. You have my gratitude. Which is why…" he trailed off for a moment, taking a sip of warm, bitter coffee. The sentence died in a soft chuckle.

"You see, I don't like to lose," he said, flatly. "I want my children to grow up in a world that idolizes them, as well it should. I want them to know the value of the blood running through their veins, Hawke, as I'm sure you understand. And for that to happen, I have to place my bets soon – and on the right horse."

His smile faded, and his dark eyes locked onto Logan's.

"So, for now, let's make this about you and I, hmm? How much were they paying you? I'll double it – and I'll lend you my wand. In exchange for minor services, of course," he finished, calmly.

Logan, who had raised a couple of fingers to call the barman, quickly dropped them at Ezra's words, his eyes widening with the shock. He studied the boy for a long time, trying to see the truth in his eyes. Dany, pregnant?

The iron hand in his gut tightened its grip and he saw everything red for a moment. That son of a… Before he could find his voice again, Ezra continued with his proposition.

Logan let out a humorless, low chuckle. "Do you really think I'm that stupid, Greengrass? You, of all people, changing sides yet again?" He shook his head, making a 'tsc, tsc' sound.

He turned his head slightly to the bartender when he approached the table. "Firewhiskey," he said harshly.

He met Ezra's dark eyes. That speech didn't match the boy's attitudes for the last couple of years. And it definitely didn't match a man Dany would ever want to marry, despite her family's attempts. Unless…

"Does Dany know you're here with me? And how you… feel?" He asked curiously, his hatred now burning slowly and steadily through him, giving him some clarity.

Ezra bit back a smile at Logan's reaction, which was every bit as satisfactory as he'd predicted it would be.

"She knows that I'm out, but not with whom," Ezra said silkily. "As for how I feel… let's just say she's not keen on the idea, as yet. But you know as well as I how delightfully stubborn she can be."

He smiled, cat-like.

"I have a choice to make – I can stand idly by while our way of life collapses into nothing, or I can take action now… and be appreciated for it later, when it becomes obvious that my decision was the right one. Regardless, the estate is mine. Now, what say you?" He took another sip of coffee, and his gaze bored relentlessly into the other man. "I line your pockets, Hawke, and you guarantee me that my family and my investments will be secure in the future. My father might have been afraid to get his hands dirty, but I am not."

Logan's mind was working at full-speed. He wanted more than anything to take care of Greengrass himself. But they were at a critical stage in that war, and he knew the value of bringing his Master a valuable asset. And, despite his personal opinions, the Greengrass family was considered very valuable.

He didn't believe Ezra's commitment would ever be enough to survive if he really did join; he'd probably just gotten scared when he realized how alone he was right now, and was clinging to every illusion of safety he could find.

Logan bit back an amused laugh. Ezra would be anything but safe, but that was just fine by Logan. When the Dark Lord realized the boy wasn't that useful, after all, and was done with him, Logan would be there to console his sister.

He took a sip of his firewhiskey. "You line my pockets, and I guarantee you a chance of proving yourself, Greengrass. I guarantee you safety until that point. And then," he opened his hands in a vague gesture. "It'll be out of my hands." His eyes held a dangerous gleam when he added, "The Dark Lord likes his men to be loyal and devoted, no matter what part they take in his plans; he won't be satisfied with anything less. Are you willing to do that?"

Ezra's eyes narrowed slightly when Logan mentioned proving himself.

"Fair enough," he said, smirking. Yes, the conversation had followed the path that Ezra had envisioned almost exactly. He had no doubt that Logan still viewed him as that frail, powerless figure he'd seen at the Ministry all those months ago.

And that was just as well.

"My devotion to the cause is immeasurable," he murmured. "As for loyalty, I daresay your Master shall be the judge of that. And when can I expect to hear from you?" he asked lowly, sloshing the remnants of his lukewarm coffee around in his mug.

Ezra's claim of devotion made a distrusting smile blossom on Logan's lips. Poor idiot…

He emptied his glass to gain a few moments. He was risking his own neck bringing Greengrass in, if his intentions were more obscure than he let know, but if he brought the subject up in the right way… "Yes, he definitely will," he said slowly.

He stood up, looking down at the younger boy. "Very well, Greengrass. It's your funeral. I'll need to take care of a few details first. We can meet here in two days, at midnight. Don't forget the money." He started to walk away, then stopped and turned. "Oh, and congratulations. Tell Dany her mother will be very… happy with the news," he added in a low voice.

-/-/-

Ezra slid in through the front door of Greengrass Manor and shut it behind him with a click. Once on the other side, he closed his eyes for a moment, trying to steady the beating of his heart.

It wasn't that Logan frightened him. Indeed, of all the possible outcomes, facing Logan was at the bottom of a long list of worries. He Who Must Not Be Named, however…

He released the captive breath in a long, slow exhale. Then, he locked the door, made every effort to have faith in Johnston's protective enchantments, and made his way into the entry hall. He'd instructed the elves not to stay up all night, and it appeared that his orders had been heeded; the grand house seemed eerily silent at such a late hour.

He sighed before making his way into the kitchen with the intent of making a strong cup of tea. The coffee had left a bad taste in his mouth, and the lingering odor of cigarettes hadn't done anything to help the matter.

He arrived in the kitchen to find it already occupied, and he hesitated before speaking.

"I thought you'd gone to bed," he murmured quietly to Daniella, draping his cloak over one of the straight-backed wooden chairs. He leaned over and kissed her forehead. "I thought I'd make some tea. Would you care for some?"

Daniella had stayed behind after everyone else had gone to sleep. She couldn't say why she'd decided to wait in the kitchen instead of in one of the many living rooms in the manor; maybe because the kitchen had always been one of the few places she felt comfortable enough in when she was troubled. She wouldn't have been able to stay in the bedroom without him, that was for sure.

She raised her eyes, then ran them over his body twice, head to toe, as if to make sure he was unscathed. Only then did she manage to breathe more easily again. "Like I could've gotten any sleep…" she muttered darkly, but managed a small smile when he kissed her.

"Yes, please." She could smell the smoke on his clothes and his breath and narrowed her eyes slightly, biting back a comment. "How did it go?"

Ezra, ever the perceptive one, caught the look she gave him which said I-know-you've-been-smoking-and-I've-told-you-a-million-times almost as clearly as though she'd said it out loud. He offered her a brittle, guilty half-smile. He couldn't help but think that she was most beautiful there, in those moments, even when she was disapproving of him quietly. Her hair had grown, and so had her middle, only a little, and Ezra found her more and more captivating as the days rolled by.

He, on the other hand, had only a streak of grey in his otherwise raven-black hair and bags under his eyes to show for his months of trouble.

With effort, he detached himself from her and busied himself with the teapot.

"It went," he said quietly, his voice a bit hoarse. He cleared his throat. "I expect I'll know more in two days' time. That's when I'm to meet with him again."

He filled the teapot with water and pointed his wand at it distractedly. It whistled after only a few moments; he carried it carefully over to the table and summoned two tea cups.

"He also said it was my funeral, but perhaps he was just wishing aloud," he added dryly, rummaging around in the cupboard for the tea bags. With his mind drifting off, he gave up trying to fish them out and instead brought the whole box.

He sat. After a moment, he poured some hot water into her cup.

Daniella watched him closely as he fiddled around in the kitchen. She was trying very hard to be supportive of his decision; it wouldn't help him at all, if she raised even more obstacles than he already had to overcome.

But she saw, probably better than anyone else, what the efforts of the last few months were doing to him; and it had just barely started. She pushed that thought aside; she'd had enough dark thoughts about what could happen already.

"Two days? So quickly?!" She asked, her voice a little higher pitched than normal. She sighed, rubbing her temples. "Are you sure…?" she trailed off. Don't doubt him, she told herself. There was no room for doubt in that crazy plan of his.

She raised her eyes to Ezra when he mentioned Logan's words, an odd light in her eyes. "Maybe it'll be his funeral instead," she murmured viciously. She had grown more and more protective of her family lately.

She studied her husband as he poured her tea. "Do you have any idea of what they'll ask of you?"

"Two days, same time, same place," Ezra confirmed, grabbing the sugar cubes as an afterthought. He didn't take sugar with his tea, but Daniella did…

Her voice reached a peak and then faded away, and he studied her carefully. They'd had a lot of conversations about this night; there had been fights, mends, worries, fears about this night. At the end of the day, though, it was Ezra's decision – he was the one who had been training for months – and he had done his best to convince her that it was the right thing to do.

He'd promised that he would fight. The pregnancy had changed things, but the war didn't stop just because his life had started.

"I hope it won't be anyone's funeral," he murmured, placing his hand gently over hers and leaving it there. Then, he plopped a tea bag into both cups of hot water and waited for the brew to steep. "I have my suspicions, but nobody can say for sure. It will definitely be a crime of some sort, and they'll use any information Logan can give them about me to make that decision. Whatever it is, I'm sure that it will be…"

He exhaled; his heart rate had picked up again.

"…intentionally difficult," he finished, lamely. "That's all I can say. But nevermind; we'll cross that bridge when we come to it. Tell me how you are," he murmured, tracing his thumb over the ridge of her knuckles. At this point, he was vaguely certain that she was the only thing keeping him sane.

Daniella curled her fingers around his. Logan knew too much about them to be comfortable, and he'd certainly have a saying on the task they'd give Ezra. They were fairly certain it wouldn't involve her – and that knowledge had been a big part of his decision –, because Logan would make sure of that, but other than that…

She'd be there for him, after. Whatever he had to do, she'd help him get through it. "Yes," she agreed. "Whatever it is, it doesn't matter. We'll do it." Anything to get you out of there alive, she thought to herself.

She huffed out a half sigh, half snort and took a small, tentative sip of her tea. "I'm feeling better. I haven't thrown up tonight's dinner yet, which is a great improvement! And also why Jo isn't dancing around me right now…" She added, smiling at last. "Do you want to eat? There are leftovers. I can warm something for you before we go upstairs…"

Ezra was grateful for her acceptance, so much so that he couldn't find the words to properly express himself. He settled for gently squeezing her hand, which now warmed his.

Her candid tone helped him relax, and a mountain of tension seemed to unwind itself from him. He smiled a small, tentative smile.

"That's good," he purred. "Merlin knows that you could both use the sleep. Hell, I could use the sleep," he mumbled offhandedly, rubbing at his eye blearily with his free hand. Afterward, he lifted the teacup to his lips and sipped. "Ledger seems to be the only one getting any sleep in this house."

He sighed, but chuckled under his breath in spite of himself.

"No, thank you," he said, softly. "I've been put off my appetite, I'm afraid. But nevermind."

He found himself saying those words a lot lately; his eyes focused on the kitchen cupboard behind his wife, although he wasn't looking at it. After a moment or two, he snapped back to reality and took another long sip of tea.

"I'll go to visit Dumbledore in the morning, and then I'll be home for the day. No more of this running back and forth nonsense."

He kissed her forehead again, and this time his lips lingered there.

"Imagine! An entire day of not being bombarded. I do hope to share it with you, if you're keen." He smiled at her then, and there was a mischievous glint in his eyes that lasted for only a moment before fading again. He drained the rest of his tea.

Daniella snorted, putting down her cup before it spilled. "Well, Noah could sleep through an earthquake, so that isn't saying much…"

She pressed her lips together, biting back a reply. He had lost too much weight already because he wasn't eating well. She'd have to find a way to feed him properly the next day.

She smiled more widely and grabbed at his shirt pulling him down for a proper kiss. "I'd like that very much," she said in a low voice, resting her forehead against his.

"Oh…" Came a raspy voice from behind them. "Er, sorry, I didn't know you were here," Noah said apologetically, standing on the doorway wearing only shorts and rubbing the back of his head.

"Oh, look, he woke up," Daniella murmured to Ezra teasingly, before turning her head to look at the Gryffindor.

"I just came to grab a snack," Noah continued, his eyes coming to rest on Ezra. "So… did you do it?" He asked.

Ezra leaned into the kiss, relishing it completely until Ledger's sleep-riddled voice distracted him. He huffed out an amused but impatient sigh, resting his forehead against hers for only a moment before looking at the other boy.

"I do live here," he replied dryly, although his tone had no venom in it. He pulled away from Daniella slowly, folding his hand under his chin. At the mention of 'it', his expression became solemn again; the fleeting moment of happiness had slipped away.

"I did," he murmured. "I'm to meet with Dumbledore in the morning, and with Logan in two days' time to find out what they want of me."

He nibbled at his pinky fingernail absentmindedly before brushing his barely silver-streaked bangs from his forehead.

"In any case, I'm exhausted," he murmured hollowly, after a while. He allowed his eyes to drift shut under dark, furrowed eyebrows. A few moments passed in silence before he opened them again.

Daniella looked back at Ezra's face as he spoke. She had a few things she'd like to tell Dumbledore about making Ezra work too much on his own, next time she saw him.

Noah walked into the kitchen nonchalantly, picked up an apple and took a large bite as he leaned back against the counter. "That's good news. Do let me know if you need any help with…" he frowned momentarily, seemingly lost in thought; he shrugged. "Well, anything. I don't think I'll get another mission for a while, at least until Dearborn is on his feet again. That was a nasty curse…"

Daniella looked at the other boy, with a mix of amusement and annoyance. He didn't even realize he might be interrupting something. It was both infuriating and endearing.

She cupped Ezra's cheek with one hand, studying the small wrinkle of concern between his eyebrows. "Let's go to bed, so we can both get some rest," she said softly when he opened his eyes again. "We'll need our energy if want to make the most of tomorrow."

"Thank you," Ezra said quietly. Now that he and Daniella had been interrupted, there was nothing to stop him from thinking about how incredibly, doggedly tired he was. He watched Ledger crunch away at his apple, well-rested and oblivious. It wasn't as though he knew there wasn't anything he could really do to help, Ezra reminded himself. If he started to think of his closest friends that way, he really would go mad. He was in too deep to start pushing people away now.

He sighed again, and closed his eyes as Daniella caressed his cheek. Her hand was cool against his face. He nuzzled into it.

"Yes," he agreed in a whisper. "Let's."

He hauled himself to his feet with monumental effort and offered his hands to Daniella, so that she might pull herself up.

"Goodnight, Ledger," he said wryly. With those final words, he led Daniella loosely by the hand around the bend and up the stairs.

-/-/-

Two days later

Logan walked down the street to his second meeting with Ezra with a confident and amused smile on his face. This was turning out to be the best day in quite some time, for him. And it was about to get better.

He arrived at the pub and, as he'd expected, found Greengrass sitting on the same table. "Well, well, good to see you haven't given up yet," he mocked, taking his seat and crossing his legs at the knee.

Ezra looked pale, but then again, the boy had never had much color. Logan gave a short nod at the bartender before he even approached and the man walked away again. "I've talked to some friends about your inspiring speech the other night; I told them how 'devoted' you are to the cause," he couldn't suppress a small smirk at that. "They're curious. Have you brought the money?"

Ezra's dark eyes flicked up to survey Logan, and something dangerous flashed in them for a brief moment before he quelled it. This was not about his pride, he tried to remind himself; this was for Daniella, for their unborn child, for his friends, for the whole of the wizarding world.

His lips parted in a feral smirk.

"Do you think me so fickle?" he said silkily, flexing his ringed fingers. "Yes, I have the money." He procured a small, green velvet pouch from the inner pocket of his robes and turned it over in his hand idly, surveying it as though it was only mildly interesting.

He lifted his eyes to the other man again, and the mirth had vanished from them.

"So?" he said, expectantly.

Logan raised one eyebrow. "Well, it's not like you've honored all of our previous deals, is it?"

He looked at the pouch intently, even though the money was the least of his concerns. He didn't buy Ezra's newly found devotion for one second, but he was glad for the opportunity to keep an enemy closer. Especially because he'd been given the permission by Malfoy himself to test the boy as he very well pleased, as long as he made sure of the boy's real intentions and abilities.

He'd spent a long time planning his next move. He wasn't completely oblivious to Ezra's skills. He'd been close enough to the Greengrass family for long enough to realize what kind of training their heir had been given.

No, what he needed to test was Ezra's heart. He'd spent far too long with Dany and her Mudblood friends for Logan to believe he hated them.

Logan's smile grew wider and more vicious and he focused his attention on Ezra again. "Very well. I'll go straight to the point. In order to prove your willingness to obey the Dark Lord's orders and to help him reach his objectives, you'll have to… kill someone." He paused, relishing that moment and the boy's reaction. "A Mudblood," he added slowly.

The air practically sizzled between the two of them, and Ezra's heart threatened to migrate to his throat in a brief moment of vulnerability. He knew well the look that was in Logan's eyes; it was the same look he'd been wearing that night he'd chased him down in Diagon Alley, and the same look he'd had as he'd subjected Ezra to the Cruciatus Curse, over and over again…

Logan wasn't merely evil, of that he was certain. There was a wild-eyed fervor about him now that hadn't been there before… it stunk of insanity.

"Naturally," Ezra said sarcastically, accepting the order with placid calm. "Do you have a specific one in mind, or shall I pick one off of the street? They do multiply," he drawled.

For a moment, Logan thought he saw the shadow of doubt in Ezra's dark eyes, but then that moment was gone. He was good, he had to admit.

"No, it's not just anyone…" Logan rolled his eyes up for a moment, as if considering something. "I suspect Dany will be quite upset…" he lowered his eyes again. "But I'm sure you'll find a way to comfort her, after you kill Johnston."

A beat of silence passed between them after Logan finished speaking, then two; Ezra's face remained ever-passive, but his heart had skipped a beat against his will. He had been prepared to do anything – to kill, even, if it meant the safety of his family. But this…

Of course, it was exactly what Logan had intended.

"And the catch is?" he murmured, after a long moment. "Surely you aren't going to take my word for it."

Logan inhaled deeply, taking the most of that moment. He wanted to see Greengrass squirm, he wanted to see him suffer. He leaned back easily, ordering a glass of firewhiskey before he answered.

"As much as I'd like to, no, I'm not going to. Your word isn't worth much as of now, you see?" He said lightly. "But don't worry, you won't have to wait very long."

His drink arrived and he took a long sip before putting the glass down noisily. "Due to certain recent events, the Muggles government is under a lot of pressure," he explained with a chuckle. "Those idiots want to take down their government, as if anyone else they get in there will be able to keep them safe. There's a Muggle protest scheduled, in front of 10 Downing Street, where their Minister works."

Logan licked his lips, taking his time. He'd tried to make this mission as difficult as he possibly could, which was why he wanted it to happen in a crowded place, filled with Muggles. He kept weaving his web as neatly as he could.

"Your mission is to lure Johnston to that protest… and then kill him. A few of our own, including me, will be there, observing your performance in secret. If you succeed, I'll take you to them and you'll be on your way to get the protection you seek for yourself and your… new family."

He fell silent, giving Greengrass time to process all that information; studying him closely. Seeing how far he was willing to take this charade.

Ezra bit back a snort, raising his own glass to his lips and taking a long draw from it. He rested it on the table, then, and paused; almost automatically, he pulled a cigarette from his cloak pocket and lit it with a hidden flick of his wand.

He inhaled deeply, relishing the first bite of the smoke in his chest.

"Alright," Ezra said, releasing a torrent of smoke with his words. He slid the money across the table with two thin fingers. "You can take this to your 'friends.' Tell them to keep a healthy distance in the meantime. I'm liable to make a mess of those Muggles."

He dropped one galleon onto the table by way of a tip before pulling himself to his feet, still nursing his cigarette desperately.

Logan's low, vicious chuckle grew louder as Greengrass got to his feet. He shook his head, as if the boy had just told him some hilarious joke.

"Of course," he said finally, giving a short nod as he took the pouch, inspecting its contents. "We'll be looking forward to it. The bigger the mess, the better!" He raised his glass in a mocking cheer. "I will see you soon, Greengrass."

-/-/-

Daniella had spent the last couple of hours either sitting on one of the stuffed chairs or pacing the living room. This time around, no one had retired yet. Both Jo and Noah were still in the living room with her, but she couldn't make eye contact with any of them. She could barely keep her own anxiety in check, much less deal with theirs.

She was sick to her stomach, although she couldn't tell if it was because of the wait or the pregnancy anymore. With a heavy sigh, she took her seat on the chair again, with a clear sight to the door, the large clock on the wall and a portion of the hallway outside.

Ezra had started smoking after seeing it on Muggle television. It was, according to the public at large, a very nasty habit, and he quite agreed. He did, however, see the appeal.

Indeed, he was beginning to contemplate buying a large stock of the blasted things, just so that he could light the beginning of one with the end of another without worrying about running out.

He Apparated onto the front stoop with a crack and let himself into his house.

"Thank God," Jo sighed, leaning back against his cushioned armchair. Ezra looked at him, then at Ledger, then at Daniella.

"A bit hasty, perhaps," he grumbled, pulling off his long cloak and hanging it in the front hall. He lingered in the doorway of the large living room, hollow-eyed and scant. As he leaned against the wall, he raised one hand to the bridge of his nose and clamped his pale fingers between his closed eyes.

He was silent for several moments. When he did finally look up, it was at Josiah.

"Do you trust me?" he asked, fixing the other boy with his tired, but somehow still incredibly unnerving, stare.

"What?" Jo murmured, slightly caught off-guard. "Yes?" he replied, carefully.

"Do – you – trust – me?" Ezra repeated, with emphasis. He took a couple of steps forward before sinking stiffly into one of the armchairs. Josiah looked at him uncomfortably. They stared at each other for a moment.

"Yes," he said again, with more conviction.

"With your life?" Ezra murmured, folding his hand under his chin in characteristic posture. His eyebrows were furrowed. The intensity made Josiah's heart skip.

"Well, yes, but…" he said in a small voice. "What is it? What's happened? You smell like an ashtray," he added candidly, looking petulant.

Ezra sagged against the back of the chair, sliding so far that his back was cradled in the seat somewhat pathetically.

"I'm to kill you," he said finally, in a whisper. "That's what he wants. He wants me to kill you – in public, while he watches."

Daniella had gotten up when Ezra walked into the room, but his immediate focus on Jo left her with a terrible sinking feeling. She stood there, watching the exchange, unsure what to do, just looking from one to the other.

Until he said those last words. There was a moment of eerie silence as the words sunk in, a moment when no one moved, no one even breathed.

And then the meaning of those words hit her like a brick wall. "That bloody bastard!" She spat at the same time Noah got to his feet and took a step towards the other two boys, fists clenched and growled, "The hell you will! I'll kill that asshole with my own hands, if he's that desperate to see someone die!"

Daniella looked at Noah, then at Jo. That was it. Ezra would just have to tell Dumbledore to find someone else to risk their neck. Right?

She looked at Ezra, and the terrible feeling grew stronger. She blindly reached for the chair with one hand, needing to sit down until the room stopped its slow spin. "Ezra?" She called, her voice barely a murmur, knowing what she'd see in his eyes, but not sure she was ready to deal with his decision.

There was a moment wherein Ezra felt that familiar sinking feeling that he'd only felt once before; it was the same feeling he'd gotten when they'd been living in Liverpool, and everyone had been convinced he was a secret Death Eater. The correlation made him irritable, and he grit his teeth.

"Don't be daft," he snapped, wounded. "Obviously I'm not going to kill anyone."

Josiah, who hadn't moved from his position in the armchair, had involuntarily clenched his hands into his pajama bottoms. He slowly relaxed them, but he couldn't suppress the shiver that ran down his spine.

"Of course you aren't," Jo said breathily, as though he'd just done a lot of running. "You have a plan."

Ezra looked up at Daniella, then back to Jo.

"Yes," he murmured, although he looked troubled at the admission. "Sort of." He realized that this probably wasn't the most efficient way to convince the others that he knew what he was doing, but he was too tired and too worn-thin to care. He'd known it would be difficult, and so had they.

A sort-of plan was better than no plan at all.

"There's going to be a demonstration at the center of the Muggle government, and my task is to lure you there and kill you. He obviously put a lot of thought into the details," Ezra murmured, biting at his nails again. "But it isn't foolproof. They'll be far away, and I only need to make it look nasty. As long as you look dead, that will be good enough. I don't think they'd bother after that…"

He realized that he was rambling, and that his rambling might unsettle the others, so he looked up at Josiah only. The other boy's hazel eyes were wide but determined.

"And, er, how were ye planning to make me look dead without my, uh, being actually dead?" he asked with some level of politeness.

Ezra cleared his throat.

"Well," he mumbled, guiltily. "That was the sort of part."

Noah cursed, glaring at Ezra heatedly, but didn't add anything else, looking at Jo instead, waiting for the moment his boyfriend would point out how idiotic and suicidal that whole thing was.

Daniella closed her eyes and muttered something under her breath. That must be another of those horrible dreams she'd had in the last few days. It had to be.

But it wasn't. And, as she realized that it was really happening, and that Ezra was still going forward with that plan, because Dumbledore had said it was the only way, she felt something bubble in her stomach more powerful than she'd ever felt before. Hatred.

Logan had just made it very clear that he didn't even care if he stepped on her and on the people she loved to achieve his twisted goals. The mere thought of him made her sick, so she shook her head and looked at Ezra instead.

He looked as ill as she felt and much more exhausted. It pained her to look at him. She wanted to just grab him and take him away to one of the places they'd been by themselves; to one of the places where he still smiled and felt some level of happiness.

But that wasn't possible, so she would have to just figure out a way to get those two out of that situation alive…

She hadn't paid attention to the whole exchange, but Jo's question made her look up at them; his words reminded her of something she'd read a long time ago. "Draught of the living death…" she murmured, looking from Jo to Ezra, not sure they'd heard her.

Jo gave Noah a reproachful look that didn't carry much heat. He understood their concern, but really, it was his life on the line here, wasn't it? If Ezra said he had a plan, Josiah believed him, and that was that. As far as he was concerned, they'd already reaped enough consequences from not giving him the benefit of the doubt.

He had to admit that Ezra didn't look very confident, and that was even apart from looking like he might drop into an open grave at any moment. Merlin's pants, the boy was going grey-headed, and he was nineteen! But he steeled himself against his doubts and, with as much calmness as he could muster, looked around at the others.

It wasn't until Daniella spoke that Ezra looked up at her, too, and a kind of spark lit behind his dark eyes.

"Yes," he said immediately. A million thoughts flashed across his tired mind, and he nodded fiercely.

"Sorry, what?" Jo said, feeling as though he deserved to be kept informed about any draughts that might pass over his lips.

"The Draught of Living Death," Ezra repeated, more clearly this time. The thoughts in his head were too much, and he stood, although too abruptly; he was dizzy for a moment and stumbled into his armchair before crossing the room. "We only barely covered it in NEWT level, but…"

"Aye, well, I never was much for Potions," Josiah said, taking on a petulant tone again. "So I'll thank you for explaining it slowly and simply. And do sit back down, you're giving us all a fright."

Ezra sank into a different chair obediently, still far away in thought.

"You'd have to pick the right moment to drink it, of course, down to almost the second," he murmured. "And there would need to be someone with a Wiggenweld Potion to alleviate the effects after they're convinced."

Daniella brought a shaky hand to rub her temple as she thought furiously. She had just barely scraped by with an acceptable potion when she'd had to make it in school. Maybe, maybe if they had some time to practice it, maybe she and Ezra could do it…

She met Jo's eyes. There was no room for maybes. They had to make it. She wouldn't lose her best friend. And she definitely wouldn't let her baby grow up without a father.

"It's a potion that makes you look like you're dead, even though you'll just be sleeping," she added quickly as Noah opened his mouth to protest again. She nodded when Ezra kept murmuring. "There's an antidote we can give you after… after they're satisfied."

Daniella walked over to Ezra, lowering herself next to his chair, looking at him with as much confidence as she could gather, considering the daunting task ahead of them. "How will you make it look like you were the one who killed him?" She asked.

Josiah clung to Daniella's words carefully, nodding slowly as the description of the potion sank in. It sounded perfect, yes, but…

"And you can make it?" he asked, looking from Daniella to Ezra tentatively.

"Yes," Ezra said confidently, putting a hand over Daniella's as she knelt beside him. She didn't look that convinced, he noted, and so he nodded at her pointedly. "We can."

Her question gave him pause, but only a little.

"Like this, I suppose," he murmured and, without warning, procured his wand from his sleeve and hauled a jet of green light at Josiah.

It bounced harmlessly against his chest and fizzled, but Jo wasn't the least bit impressed. He put one hand over his chest defensively.

"You should probably practice falling a bit," Ezra mumbled innocently.

Daniella looked at the flash of green light with a start, but nothing happened to Jo. "Well I guess that solves that problem."

Noah could only look at them with his mouth slightly open in disbelief. "Are we seriously considering this?" He asked finally, knowing the answer all too well. He turned to Ezra. "No offense, I know you're really good at potions and all that, but what if they decide they want to take Jo with them or… or… what if they want to take part in the 'fun'?!"

Ezra looked at Noah, feeling immediately defensive against any sentence that the other boy felt he needed to preface with the words 'no offense.'

"They won't," he said, more confidently than he actually felt. "Once they check to make sure he's 'dead,' they'll take me to their headquarters. They can't move his body from a public place – it would be incredibly suspicious, wouldn't it?" he said dryly. "They're testing me. He didn't think I would actually agree to it."

He realized how this sounded after he had said it, and winced a bit.

"That is to say, I wouldn't do it, obviously. But if he knew that, then there wouldn't be any point in me running myself ragged for the Order, would there?"

He looked to Josiah for any sign of acceptance.

"I trust you," Jo told him, kindly. Then, he turned to Noah. "I trust him," he repeated, taking Noah's hands in his own. "And so do you. We've done so many crazy things, love, this really isn't anything much."

He gave his boyfriend an amused look, hoping that it would calm his nerves.

"Besides, you'll be with the Order, and after everything, you'll come and fetch me, and… everything will be fine. Right?" he looked over his shoulder at Ezra, who nodded.

"Right," he said, with an air of exhausted finality. He then looked up at Noah again. "I promise, Ledger. I'd never drag any of you into this if I wasn't… absolutely, positively sure that we could pull it off."

He gave Daniella's hand a gentle squeeze, hoping to see trust and reassurance in her eyes.

Daniella studied the other couple and nodded, slowly at first, then more vigorously. "We'll start practicing tomorrow morning. Between the two of us, I'm sure we can get it right, and also the potion to wake Jo up again." She met Noah's eyes, knowing all too well how he was feeling at that moment, and trying to show him she understood. "Don't worry about that, Noah. It's the best way to keep Jo safe."

Noah furrowed his brow in a sulky expression, but he looked resigned. He looked down at his boyfriend and pulled him closer. "Oh, I'll definitely be there," he said simply. He was considering suggesting he could take the Polyjuice potion to look like Jo and take the potion himself instead, but he realized that would mean even more work for Dan and Ezra, and he didn't want them to be distracted from their main concern.

He looked at Jo, looking so firm and confident, and murmured, "Just don't dare getting yourself hurt after all the times you yelled at me for the same reason."

Daniella, in the meantime, fixed her eyes on Ezra. They'd come a long way since they'd started dating; slowly but surely, she was starting to understand him better, to accept him better. He was going to do that, for his own reasons. She'd do anything for him, so if he needed her to be strong and confident, then she'd find a way to be just that.

She kissed the back of his hand, her hand still closed around his. "You're right. We've done more complicated things before. We can do this as well." It took effort, but she smiled at him. "But now you need to eat. I promised Pokey we'd both eat before going to bed. And I'm not carrying you upstairs, with or without magic."

Josiah leaned into Noah's chest and huffed out a small laugh.

"Aye, aye," he said, with amusement. "Don't ye worry. You know how resilient I am."

Ezra, whose attention had slowly begun to drift away, closed his eyes and tried to relish the feel of Daniella's lips on his hand. It was difficult; he was so tired now that his hand barely felt attached to his body.

At her words, he managed a low groan.

"I'm not hungry," he mumbled, slumping to one side and resting his head on her shoulder. No sooner had he done this than Pokey came bustling into the living room with a large silver tray balanced above her head. As she ran, her ears flopped rhythmically.

"Mistress Daniella called for Pokey?" she said cheerfully. The platter, which was full of finger sandwiches and tiny meat pies, cast her completely in shadow.

Silently, Jo leaned over and grabbed one of the meat pies, as though hoping no one would notice.

Noah snorted without amusement. "Yeah, you remember you said that the next time I come back with a scratch…" But he couldn't stay upset with Jo for more than a few minutes, and those sandwiches looked really tasty, so he grabbed a couple at the same time, drowning his anxiety with food.

Daniella gave a worried and annoyed stare at Ezra, but before she could answer, Pokey came running into the room. She hadn't quite gotten used to that yet, but she didn't see the point in explaining she hadn't exactly "called" Pokey. All the better, though.

"Thank you, Pokey. Perfect timing!" She smiled at the elf gratefully, then gave Ezra her best stern look. "Cigarettes aren't actual food, you know!" She grabbed a meat pie from the tray, planted a quick kiss on Ezra's lips and waved the pie in front of his mouth. "Now, consider this. Dinner lasted exactly 9 minutes in my stomach tonight. And, right now, I'm going to eat exactly as much as you eat." She smiled sweetly at her husband. "So, how is it going to be?"

Pokey beamed at Daniella's praise, hoisting the tray up a little higher so that it was easier for her to reach. The fact that everyone appeared to be eager to try her cooking made her visibly excited.

"Pokey lives to serve," she added, happily.

Ezra lifted his heavy head and gazed at his wife pleadingly, to no avail.

"I also had coffee," he mumbled, guiltily. As she spoke, Ezra mulled her words over carefully; when she informed him that she'd only kept her dinner down for nine minutes, he managed a small wince.

"But—" he started, tentatively. "Come now, I shouldn't say that's strictly fair…" he turned his pleading gaze to Ledger, just in time to see Josiah fishing his wand out of his pocket with his meat-pie-free hand.

"What are you doing?" Ezra said, notably more alert. Josiah took a couple of steps forward, and Ezra shrunk against the chair; the other boy brandished his wand, and Ezra furrowed his brow.

"No," he said, sharply. "Don't do that—"

His protest came too late, though, and he found himself submerged in a cloud of pink sparkles that quickly evaporated. Much against his will, Ezra huffed out a small chuckle.

"Merlin's beard," he muttered, the ghost of the smile still lingering on his lips. "I do hate that, you know."

He looked back to Daniella, remembered her words, and allowed a small smirk to play on his lips.

"Fine," he murmured.

Reluctantly, he reached for a finger sandwich and nibbled at the end of it.

Noah watched Daniella and Ezra with amusement and very glad he wasn't the one in the receiving end of such an ultimatum. He raised his hands helplessly when Ezra looked at him, his mouth still too full to be able to speak.

Daniella, in turn, was trying to keep a straight face in order to not lose her authority, but she grinned when Ezra finally picked up a sandwich. "Now, that's the husband I love," she murmured, before looking at the meat pie she was still holding.

She studied it for a long moment, then wrinkled her nose. Suddenly, the picture of a tray full of deliciously cooked shrimp with butter and lemon came to her mind. She licked her lips and looked sadly at her meat pie.

She glanced at Ezra sheepishly, then her eyes shifted to Pokey. "Pokey? Is there any shrimp in the kitchen?"

Ezra wasn't sure whether it had been the Cheering Charm or the simple act of putting food in his mouth, but after he had taken the first bite of sandwich, he realized that he was, actually, ravenously hungry. The rest of the sandwich disappeared in a flash.

Meanwhile, Pokey snapped to attention as Daniella addressed her. She pulled her small hands away to assume a position of deep thought; the tray hovered harmlessly, magically suspended.

"Yes, Mistress, I believe so, yes," she squeaked, nodding her large head. "Would Mistress like some shrimp? Boiled? Fried? Steamed?"

Ezra, who had just finished inhaling two more finger sandwiches, looked back at the small house elf.

"Shrimp sounds nice," he said, covering his full mouth with the palm of his hand.

Josiah gave Noah an amused look, then grabbed another meat pie.

"I reckon you have some catching up to do, love," he said to Daniella with a pointed grin.

-/-/-

Daniella rubbed her eyes as she carefully read the recipe one more time; then, she frowned accusingly at the cauldron. She'd definitely followed the instructions correctly this time, and still she hadn't gotten any better results than when she'd tried to do it in Hogwarts.

She huffed out a breath, dropping herself on the stool and biting her lip as she looked at the book, deep in thought.

The knock on the door startled her. "Come in," she said, thinking it could be Ezra. She'd made a half-hearted attempt at waking him up in the morning, but he was sleeping so soundly and peacefully, she didn't want to interrupt his much needed rest.

It was Noah's head peeking into the potion brewing room, though. "Er, hey," he started with an unsure smile. "There you are…"

Daniella raised an eyebrow, amused. "Yeah, I was trying to make the potion. Trying being the key word," she added, casting another glare at the stubbornly pink liquid. "Do you need something?"

"Oh, I just wanted to know if you wanted to eat something, since you didn't come down for lunch…" It was only partly true. Noah also wanted to see if they were succeeding at making the potion or not.

"Lunch?" Daniella repeated, straightening up. "Is it lunch time already? Where's Ezra?" She said, wondering why he hadn't come to meet her yet.

"It's past lunch time," Noah corrected. He shrugged. "I haven't seen him yet. He didn't show up either. Jo thinks he's still sleeping…"

Ezra stirred slowly, wallowing a bit in the expansive sea of covers before bothering to open his eyes. He rolled over gently to look at Daniella's side of the bed, but she wasn't there; he blinked and squinted into the harsh light pouring in through the window.

He wondered, dully, what time it was.

It had been weeks since he'd had a full night's sleep, and almost three months since he'd had a nice dream. He lifted himself up with a strength that surprised him; had he been that weak for so long? He stood, examining himself in the mirror.

He really had gotten thin – his pajamas were clinging to him pathetically. And his hair…

Annoyed, he looked away and blew his bangs from his face with a puff. He left the room and made his way through the hall and down the stairs. There was no one about, which was strange; they'd agreed to start practicing first thing in the morning, and nobody had bothered to wake him. He checked the kitchen and the living room before deciding to take a peek in the potion closet.

He reached out for the doorknob, pushed the door inward, and hesitated as it hit something solid. He poked his head in the small crack.

"Oh," he said. "Sorry, Ledger." His gaze traveled over Noah's shoulder to rest on Daniella. He smiled.

"Shouldn't we have breakfast before we get started?" he asked innocently, looking pointedly at the violently pink potion.

Daniella was still deciding if she was hungry enough to take a break when the door opened again.

Her greeting smile died when she followed Ezra's gaze towards her attempt at a draught of the living death. Flushing almost as pink as the potion, she vanished it with a quick flick of her wand. "Don't mind that," she said with the same hint of annoyance.

"Breakfast has come and gone, Greengrass," Noah said with a wicked smile. "If you hurry, maybe you'll find some leftovers from lunch, though," he teased.

Ezra blinked into Daniella's brusque greeting, giving her a wounded look.

"I wasn't minding," he mumbled, sliding into the room around Noah and joining her by the cauldron. He began taking quick stock of the ingredients with his eyes, then absentmindedly lifted his hand to his mouth so that he could bite at his fingernail. If Daniella was having this much trouble… he shook the thought from his mind.

They would definitely figure it out, he repeated to himself silently.

But not on an empty stomach.

"Lunch?" he said suddenly, looking over at Noah. "What time is it?"

Only a moment passed before he rounded on Daniella again; he rested a gentle hand on her shoulder and smiled indulgently.

"You haven't eaten, have you?" he purred into her ear in his own special brand of loving accusation. "I'll take over here. You and Ledger can go and have lunch."

Daniella looked away guiltily after lashing out at him. It wasn't his fault if she was frustrated. But she was… very much. She was also starting to feel claustrophobic in there. She raised her eyes to Noah, realizing she didn't know what time it was either.

Noah looked from one to the other, rolled his eyes, and said, "It's a quarter to four," he said finally. "I want as much as anyone else for that thing to be brewed right, but you should eat," he said very matter-of-factly after Ezra, glancing at Dan's belly.

Daniella, who had leaned into Ezra, huffed. She was used to Jo and Ezra, but even Noah was ganging up on her now. "Oh, alright, alright." She rose, looked around the table for the ingredients she'd been using, making a mental note to ask one of the elves to buy more Valerian roots soon, and brushed her lips on Ezra's cheek. "I'll bring something up for you to eat," she murmured, managing a small smile before leaving the room after Noah.

They made their way through the corridors in silence, Noah unsure of how he could ask something without being annoying, Dan lost in her own thoughts.

"Where's Jo?" She asked, suddenly, coming to a pause. Noah took a few more steps before he, too, stopped and turned to face her. "He said he'd go to the library for a while…"

Daniella nodded slowly. "Yes, the library might be a good idea… maybe there's something we don't know yet," she murmured to herself. She could feel Noah's exasperated stare on her, still. "I'll ask Pokey to bring me a snack to the library," she said dismissively. "I'll see you later, Noah."

And she took off to the library Jo had been exploring lately.

Josiah reclined precariously in one of the steep-backed leather armchairs in the west wing library. He had a book cradled in his lap – Ye Olde Book of Charms Moste Black – which he was studying intensely.

He barely heard the faraway door open and shut, and he let the front two legs of his chair fall to the floor unceremoniously so that he could look behind him.

"Hi, love," he said kindly, sliding the open book onto the hardwood table. "Have ye eaten anything yet? Pinky's just brought me some… erm…" he motioned vaguely to a large bowl of stew made of something undoubtedly delicious that he couldn't identify. Beside the bowl was a large mound of butter toast. "Well, you're welcome to it," he finished, smiling.

He noticed that she was strangely quiet, and his face fell a little.

"Everything alright?" he pressed, fixing his wide hazel gaze on her.

Daniella met Jo's eyes briefly as she crossed the library, a rather large room compared to the potion closet, and took a seat across from her friend at the table. She'd wanted the fresh air, but somehow, being in a larger room didn't help her keep her emotions contained at all.

Sighing, she mechanically poured stew into a bowl and noisily dragged it closer to her. She stirred it absentmindedly and gave a little shrug. "That potion is hard, is all," she said slowly. "I can't even get that right," she mumbled under her breath.

She'd woken up in a pretty good mood, so why was she feeling so surly, all of a sudden? And why were those dark thoughts coming back to her mind right now?

Jo smiled as Dan prepared to eat; as long as she was taking care of herself, he thought, that was what really mattered.

"Well, it's only been half a day," he said encouragingly. "And if you and Ezra can't figure it out betwixt you, I'm a monkey's uncle. Did he finally wake up, by the by?" he asked, with a twinge of amusement.

Although he'd already snuck a leftover meat pie from the kitchen a while earlier, he grabbed a piece of toast absentmindedly.

"You know, some of these really are dreadful," he mumbled, flipping by another page in the musty book. "I almost feel dirty reading them. 'Groin-Mangling Hex.'" He shuddered.

Daniella nodded, smashing a potato with her spoon. "He took over trying to brew the potion while I eat; Noah escorted me here," she said in what she'd intended as a teasing tone, but she wasn't very successful.

Her upper lip twitched in what could've been a smile. She slurped a little bit of stew and tried really hard to come up with a witty, funny reply. That was what she'd come looking for, after all. Jo could always cheer her up. But she could only think about Ezra… and herself.

"He is probably going to figure it out," she said at last, as if the topic had never changed.

"Oh?" Jo said, quirking an eyebrow. They had all been tiptoeing around Ezra, and for good reason, but Noah's mood as of late had been an entirely different beast. He had been increasingly afraid that his boyfriend would become resentful about not being listed for more action now that they were all involved in the war. "I think he's… well, between you and me, I think he's feeling a bit left out," Jo said quietly. "Ezra gets to do all that running off, you know; I reckon he might be jealous."

He smiled apologetically at his friend for rambling while she was trying to eat.

"Well, I should hope one of you will," he said with a sharp laugh. "I'm not keen to think of the alternativ—"

There was an explosion from downstairs that made the floor shake and the chandelier rattle, and Jo put an open palm over his heart to steady himself.

He looked at Dan with wide eyes before swallowing nervously.

"Well, that was certainly… do you think we should go check…?"

Daniella dropped the spoon and took a piece of toast instead, dipping it in the stew before bringing it carefully to her mouth. She raised disbelieving eyes to Jo. "Well," she started, her mouth still full. She swallowed with effort and proceeded, "he shouldn't be jealous. Have you taken a good look at Ezra, lately?"

She closed her eyes, regretting her brusque words, but before she could apologize, the entire division shook with the explosion. She closed her hands around the bowl that rattled on the table, her eyes widening as she looked at her friend. "What the hell…?"

She got to her feet immediately, worried something might've happened to Ezra. She opened the door and looked at both sides of the corridor. "Where did it come from, did you realize?"

"It was definitely downstairs," Jo replied quickly, following her quickly out the door and into the corridor. He hurried down the stairs, spun the corner with the help of the rail, and stopped in his tracks as there was a trail of fumes wafting from the potion closet at the end of the hall.

"Ezra?" he called out uncertainly. He couldn't see anything from the smoke, and the acrid odor in the air wasn't helping his nerves any.

"I'm fine," Ezra coughed from somewhere in the center of the cloud. "It's fine."

"The potion's fine?" Josiah asked doubtfully, making his way down the small hallway.

"Well, no," Ezra replied, brushing his bangs away from his forehead with a sticky, purple-splattered hand. He saw Daniella coming down the hall behind Josiah, and he offered her a sheepish half-smile.

"I just… uh, I thought I'd try stirring it the other way around," he explained, a little breathlessly. "I thought it might make the asphodel more potent."

He paused.

"And it did," he finished, lamely.

When Daniella's heart caught up with her, she had already caught up with Jo and taken a thorough look over Ezra. Deciding he wasn't hurt, she let her anger bubble up closer to the surface. "Couldn't you have waited until I joined you before you started making stuff up? What if something worse had happened? What if it was poisonous or- or…"

"Wouldn't that have been worse?" Ezra asked innocently, wiping his sticky hand on his already potion-saturated pajama top. He took a moment to survey his elegant silver cauldron; it was charred around the top edge, but it was still intact. The explosion, he'd surmised after the fact, had been due to the overpowered asphodel, which had reacted violently with the sloth brain when stirred at the improper angle.

The room, too, was miraculously unscathed, although it was covered in thick purple goop.

At Daniella's next words, he managed to look appropriately apologetic.

"I'm sorry," he said, in an attempt to quickly placate her rising tide of emotion. "It was just – well, I had to try, didn't I? You know how these things are, darling."

Josiah looked between the two of them nervously before waving his wand in a swift semi-circle. A bit of the offending potion disappeared.

"Well, you did your best," he said to Ezra, smiling bravely. Ezra, however, shook his head distractedly.

"No, it's nowhere near good enough," he mumbled, his brow darkening. "There's got to be some trick to it… maybe if I added…" he trailed off pensively.

Daniella glared at Ezra's innocent face and grabbed her wand, taking a step into the room. She was so frustrated she needed a moment to figure out the right spell she wanted to use, so she stood there for a moment, her wand hand trembling slightly in midair, before she started cleaning potion from the table and the book with the recipe.

Noah came running in that moment, wand in hand. He looked at the scene in front of him and slowly lowered his wand again. "That will certainly call some Muggle attention…" He gave Jo his best casual look. "Is he supposed to blow you up, is that what the potion makes?" He thought he was fairly successful at keeping an unconcerned tone in his voice.

Meanwhile, Daniella busied herself around the table. "You had to try," she grumbled under her breath. He had a point – she'd done her fair share of experimenting with potions before to know the possible outcomes – but right now, that didn't matter. What mattered was that he could've gotten hurt. Something could've gone terribly wrong.

She turned her head sharply to her husband. "You're not going to add anything else to any potion until you get changed. You still don't know what that thing might do your skin."

Ezra watched her, wide-eyed and frozen, as she pulled out her wand and brandished it at him. His eyes flicked helplessly to Josiah, who looked equally uncertain.

When she settled for cleaning the splotches of potion from the book and table, he allowed himself to relax a smidgen. Then, as if on cue, Noah arrived at the scene fashionably late and ready to hex something.

"I could have blown a crater in the floor and the Muggles wouldn't have known," Ezra said dryly, giving Noah a sideways glance that one might give another who was perilously close to stepping on a landmine. "And no. It was an accident. I was…" he looked at Daniella cautiously before continuing. "Experimenting."

Once it became apparent that he wasn't going to be forgiven anytime very soon, Ezra sighed heavily and turned his gaze to the ceiling.

Hormones. The one thing he couldn't Transfigure.

At her snappish reply, he managed to scrape up enough pride to look mildly affronted. It was only sloth brain, he wanted to say, and none of those ingredients had ever shown any caustic properties to skin, but he bit back this bit of information and swallowed it whole.

"Yes, alright," he said evenly. "I'll go and change, then, and I'll be back down in a moment."

He scooted past Josiah and Noah carefully, so as not to soil them with ruined potion; Jo gave him a sympathetic look as he passed.

"Well, that was eventful," he said breathlessly, after Ezra had gone.

Daniella braced her hands on the table and lowered her head, not willing to face anyone at the moment.

She opened her mouth, but Ezra was gone. That was the last thing he needed, something else to bother him. She should've controlled herself. She glanced at Jo, then glared at the ingredients still scattered on the table as if they'd personally offended her.

She decided to start cutting more sopophorous beans, mostly just to have something to do. And those bloody things were difficult to cut through, also! In her frantic motions, she made a few of them bounce all over when the knife failed to slice through it.

"Bloody things," she grumbled, taking the knife and smashing it onto another bean to release some frustration. A gush of juice covered the table.

Daniella opened her mouth, surprised, and raised her knife to better look at the result. Since when did one of those beans have so much juice?!

"Wait a minute…" She looked at the potions book again, searching the line about the beans. It didn't say anything about crushing them. "How useless is this book?!" She said out loud, finally looking up at Jo and sighing. "Expect a few more explosions, because this is going to take a lot more experimenting. This recipe isn't very trustworthy…"

Jo looked at Noah nervously, not daring to say anything. The tension in the room was thick, and it was mostly swirling around Dan like an almost palpable cloud.

He sighed.

"Noah, could you…" he trailed off, eager to change the subject but struggling to find a decent way. "…go to the kitchen and tell the elves to bring a little more food down here?" he finished sweetly, smiling warmly at his boyfriend. He took a couple of steps closer to Daniella, then, peering over at her hard work with the beans.

"Tricky little things, aren't they?" he sympathized, furrowing his eyebrows. Then, he brandished his wand. "Ye know, maybe if I put them in place with a Sticking Charm…"

No sooner had the words left his mouth than the river of juice had flowed out of the bean and onto the table.

"Ah, nevermind," he said, in a small, amused voice.

"Nevermind what?" said Ezra, who had returned to the small space in a fresh set of clothes. He followed Josiah's gaze to the puddle on the table. "Merlin's pants, how did you do that?" he murmured frantically, nudging in for a closer look. The expression on his face was a mixture of wonder and a little jealousy. "I couldn't even get a quarter as much."

Jo took a small step back, leaving Ezra and Dan hovering around the small, spent bean.

"Well, I'm off to the library again, then," he said mysteriously, backing his way out of the room with care. "You two kids have fun, aye? No craters, aye?"

Noah gladly took Jo's suggestion. Women could be pretty scary, sometimes. Feeling a wave of sympathy towards Ezra, he nodded and quickly walked away, murmuring "Good luck," to the Slytherin boy as they passed by each other.

After the initial moment of surprise, Daniella quickly grabbed a small bowl and, with the help of her wand, transferred all the precious juice into it.

"Nothing like being pissed off to coerce juice out of Sopophorous beans…" She said, taking another wrinkly bean and bringing it closer to her eyes. "Who would say crushing them would help…" She looked at the book, partly trying to decide if she could scribble on it, mostly just to avoid Ezra's gaze for a few seconds longer.

But they were alone now, and the silence was growing heavy and uncomfortable. Putting down the bean and the knife, she finally said, "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have snapped at you like that."

While Daniella transferred the juice into the bowl, Ezra busied himself by preparing the solution of water and African sea salt. Once the two substances were mixed, Ezra removed his hands slowly and carefully, so as to be certain not to jostle the mixture.

"Perhaps we should write it down?" he suggested after a long moment, unable to fully meet her eyes as he picked at a handful of Valerian roots. At the lingering silence, he dared to look up, but quickly lowered his gaze again.

"I'm sorry," they said at the same time, and he cleared his throat awkwardly in the aftermath. He studied her, then, her long, slightly mussed hair and bright round eyes; his lips twitched almost imperceptibly in what might have been a smile if it had had a little more oomph.

"No, it's alright," he said gingerly, grabbing his own silver knife from the edge of the counter. "It was a stupid idea, really. I should have known better."

The magical timer issued a merry ding, and Ezra carefully grabbed the beaker of water and salt and poured it, slowly, into the slightly charred silver cauldron.

"No, it's not alright!" Daniella insisted, a little more abruptly than necessary. She took a deep breath. "You were doing what's necessary," she said, repeating the words they'd all been listening so many times since they had joined the Order.

Seeing Ezra finish up with the water, she started to measure the essence of wormwood. "I just wish I could do more," she admitted, and even though her voice was low, it echoed in the small compartment. She took another glance at his tired, but still so handsome features. "Can you hold the cauldron?" She asked quickly, when she'd measured exactly 40 ounces.

Ezra looked up at her cautiously with dark, heavily-bagged eyes before turning his gaze downward again. He'd thought it would be safe after he apologized, but clearly subtlety and care were still required in the matter.

"You're doing quite a lot," he said softly, meeting her eyes again. This time, he offered her a small smile. "You've really showed those beans, in any case. I doubt we'll have any trouble now."

At her request, he placed his fingertips on the edge of the cauldron and, with utmost care, tilted it to the left.

Daniella narrowed her eyes, giving him a suspicious look, trying to decide if he was mocking her. But of course he wasn't; just like Noah and Jo fussing around her weren't either. Still, it didn't make her feel any better. Not only couldn't she do much of anything to help the Order right now, she was more of a liability than anything else.

She dropped ten drops into the cauldron, waited for him to tilt it the other way, then dropped ten more.

She examined the top quality Valerian roots carefully, picking the ones that seemed the prettiest and skillfully slicing them into perfectly shaped squares and placed them in a beaker with water. "How's the color?" She asked Ezra, restarting the timer.

Ezra didn't wilt under her critical stare, although it was tempting. Instead, he watched the liquid pool into the cauldron with rapt attention. Once she'd added half of it, he gently tilted the cauldron in the other direction. After all the liquid had been added, he let the heavy silver container rest on its wide bottom.

"It's very purple," he informed her, peering into the potion with cautious interest. "Eggplant, maybe. What are we aiming for?" he asked, raising his eyebrows with the question. He let his gaze drift momentarily over the soaking Valerian roots before his eyes glazed over with deep thought.

"You know," he said suddenly, after a moment. "Perhaps stirring it clockwise from the start wasn't a good idea, but… suppose…"

His hands slid casually into his pockets.

"Suppose that I added a clockwise stir somewhere near the middle or the end," he mused out loud. "Perhaps it would be just enough kick…"

Daniella read the recipe one more time and looked at the picture on the book as Ezra described the potion. "The book says it should be darker than that, but considering how unhelpful it has been, I think that's a good thing," she said slowly, peeking into the cauldron. "I think it looks good."

She took the Sopophorous bean's juice. "Moment of truth," she said and poured the juice into the cauldron. The potion became a lot clearer than it had when she'd just sliced the beans. A small smile blossomed on her lips. "Yes, much better…" she murmured.

She looked up at him, pondering. "Maybe… try adding it near the end at first." The timer rang again. "Let me just add the Valerian roots and you can try it."

Ezra watched as the juice blended in with the potion; where it touched, swirls of lighter purple appeared. He was pretty sure that was a good sign.

Also, Daniella's smile did him good. He smiled, too.

"Good idea," he mused, picking a long silver stirring rod from a stack of them on a nearby shelf. He waited patiently while Daniella added the soaked roots – potioneering was a patient activity, after all, and it would have been a shame to spoil their progress needlessly.

"You may want to stand back," he said distractedly, dipping the stirring rod into the solution and giving it a swift, smooth first stir. "I'm not entirely sure about this…"

Daniella nodded, put down the beaker and obediently took a couple of steps back, standing against the counter on the opposite wall.

She bit her lower lip as Ezra started to stir. By the time he added the clockwise stir, Daniella was holding her breath, eyeing the potion cautiously. When nothing exploded, she leaned forward, peeking into the cauldron over Ezra's arm.

The potion was a perfect light pink.

Daniella smiled more widely. "Great job, love," she murmured, resting a hand between his shoulder blades as she approached the cauldron again.

Ezra stirred slowly and evenly, careful not to make any sudden movements. As soon as he had stopped the momentum and given the liquid one good clockwise stir, tiny tendrils of pink had already begun to branch out from the stirring rod.

He released a breath that he hadn't realized he'd been holding and offered Daniella a relieved, slightly boastful half-smirk as he pulled the stirring rod from the cauldron. The droplets that landed on the table were as clear as water…

When he looked back into the cauldron, the potion had turned clear, too.

"I daresay we make something of a formidable team," he said finally, leaning over and giving her a quick, soft peck on her jawline. Then, he sighed; her hair tickled his nose.

"I do hope this works," he murmured, after a moment. "I suppose the rest will be up to Johnston's acting skills."

Daniella took the bottle she'd gotten from the kitchen and filled it with potion. She raised it to the level of her eyes, checking it against the light, relieved. "It seems like we do. It really isn't all that difficult, if you have the right recipe," she said, casting another accusatory look at the book.

"This could easily pass as a bottle of water," she said slowly, her hand dropping to rest around his waist. "As long as he doesn't panic, it shouldn't be too hard for you two to have the right timing. Then, it'll be up to Noah…" She looked away. Once more, she wouldn't be able to be there and help. "When do you have to do it?" She asked, trying to keep her voice even.

"And a sense of adventure," Ezra added, smirking more widely. As he felt her hand around his waist, he leaned into her, inspecting the potion critically. At her words, he nodded; it looked identical to water, in fact. They'd have to be careful not to leave any of it lying around.

"Will he panic?" he asked Dan, looking a little skeptical. He didn't want to sound like he lacked confidence in the other boy – especially not when it was both of their lives on the line – but he couldn't help thinking that Johnston wasn't exactly, well…

He lacked a certain degree of subtlety.

He sighed at being reminded about the event at all; he'd slept so long that he'd almost forgotten why they were brewing the potion at all.

"Two weeks' time," he said, quietly.

"I don't think he will," Daniella said, not without a sense of loyalty towards her friend. "He held his own pretty well against Logan, that summer before our last year in Hogwarts." Her lip twitched at the memory of that night, and she chuckled. "But I wouldn't be surprised if we gained a new pet after that…" She shook her head, thinking of the chicken Pea had ended up adopting.

Then, she noticed she was laughing, and the chuckle slowly died. She sighed instead. Bloody hormones…

She looked up at her husband; his dark eyes seemed even darker, like a shadow had covered them. "Two weeks is a long time," she said. "Do you think we can go out and buy a crib first?"

-/-/-

A few days later

Ezra had passed the Bibble & Jives storefront countless times, but he had obviously never had reason to go in. His mother had assumingly gone there for him – all magical families did, eventually – but she had never talked about it, and he had certainly never asked. The display window was full of prams and pacifiers and toys. The infant clothing fit snugly on the odd, faceless mannequin babies.

He found it all rather unnerving, and so looked to Daniella for support.

"Well, then," he said bravely, reaching for the door and holding it open for her. "After you, darling."

He followed her into the impressively large space; he hadn't expected that a store for baby things would be so large. A stand of toy giraffes caught his eye, and he paused to look at them: Charmed Teething Giraffe, the label read. Able to withstand all manner of chewing, throwing, bending, squeezing, and most unintentional spells.

"Merlin's beard," Ezra murmured to Daniella. "If only a real giraffe could do all that, I imagine they'd be much more prolific."

Daniella stopped in front of the window and looked at the exposed items with a mix of fascination and anxiety. It suddenly downed on her, much more intensely than ever before, what they were getting into.

Ezra held the door for her, snapping her out of her thoughts. The store was large and incredibly colorful, much unlike the rest of the Diagon Alley lately, with all the most recent events. There were only a few customers in there, some of them carrying excited children by the hand, a couple of very pregnant women, and a man trying to take one of those giraffe toys off of the hands of his baby.

"I had a few of these toys when I was little, but I don't think any of them lasted as long as they claim." Daniella took one of the toys, a hippogriff. She gave Ezra an amused look. "They weren't this cute either, if I remember well!"

She kept looking at the shelves, and found a small section with alarm clocks shaped like animals. When she approached, a couple of them activated and said things like: "Time for a nap!" and "Let's have a snack!"

"Did you?" Ezra asked, smiling a small smile and inspecting the giraffe more closely. He could almost picture a small Daniella playing with something like this… But after a moment, the smile faded, and he put the toy back on its shelf. "I don't remember any toys," he murmured.

The close aisles made the store feel a bit crowded despite its size, and Ezra couldn't help but feel a bit claustrophobic. He hadn't been around a crowd of people – normal, real people – in months. These people were raising children in the middle of a war, just like he and Daniella were going to… but they weren't fighting, he realized. All these people could do was hide and hope it would be enough.

A small girl looked up at him with wide eyes; with some hesitation, he smiled at her. He was suddenly painfully aware of the grey in his hair and the gaunt angles of his face.

The girl clung to her mother's robe and turned away from him, but he didn't have long to dwell on it, as the sound of the alarm clocks caught his attention.

He looked at Daniella, then back to the row of talking animals. They were all very colorful, he noted, with large, cartoonish features and happy pastel smiles.

If he was honest, he thought them a little absurd – but in the good way. He reached for the one shaped like a unicorn and examined it in his hand.

"Do you suppose she'd like something like this?" he asked softly, raising an eyebrow at Daniella.

Daniella had been studying the pony clock when Ezra showed her the unicorn. "It's adorable and a girl would definitely love it," She said, but then raised an eyebrow at him. "But why are you so sure it's a girl?" She picked an owl clock and read the back of the box. "I love unicorns, but I thought boys weren't so fond of them," she teased.

Ezra looked at Daniella for a few moments, then looked back down at the unicorn. He smiled again.

"It's a girl," he said. "I'm certain of it." He put the unicorn back on the shelf and turned around to look at another shelf, which was full of stuffed animals. He ran his finger gently along a pink silk ribbon which was tied in a bow around the neck of a white, fluffy bear.

"We haven't discussed names yet," he murmured, feeling a pang in his chest for some reason that he couldn't identify. Worry? Fear? Excitement? "Although I do suppose it can wait until after we find a crib."

He took two steps toward the large display of furniture, then turned and bent to whisper in her ear.

"For her," he whispered mischievously, smirking.

Daniella put the owl down and looked at him. "Oh, well, if you are certain…" she said teasingly. She had never really given much thought to it. It didn't matter to her if it was a boy or a girl, but she had sort of assumed it would be a boy, for no particular reason.

She studied Ezra for a while longer, and found herself hoping he'd get his wish granted. "Then, we'll take the unicorn and you can explain your son why we bought him one," she smiled at him just as mischievously, taking one of the unicorn boxes off of shelf.

"Yes, maybe we should wait. I'm sure that'll be just as peaceful of a decision as the gender," she murmured.

They chose a few more toys and stuffed animals before moving on to find the cribs, but suddenly Daniella stopped, looking at the tiny shoes. Her stomach gave a small jump that had nothing to do with morning sickness and all to do with excitement and an awful urge to say 'Awwww'.

She carefully picked a pair of small pink shoes and held them on her palm, showing them to Ezra. "Ok, we can have a girl," she grinned.