AN: So My Cousin is getting married…
And what was supposed to be a calm, familiar flight and Uber to my Airbnb has resulted in a cancelled flight (curse you Thunderstorms and Winter Blizzards of North America!), a rerouted flight to a small freckle of a town in Colorado. At the time of this writing, I'm sitting at a booth in a restaurant adjacent to the train station, waiting for my train which will leave in about four hours-that will be a 6 hour trip that should get me to my B&B around midnight…
Why am I telling you this? Because it's comical. And because it's easier to type at a restaurant when your sitting by yourself than it is to scroll through your phone. At least this way I look like a respectable member of society and not an anti-social youth (which, let's be honest, I am on cross country trips like this).
I'm also travelling without my well dog eared copy of Deathly Hallows, so we're operating off of memory and potterpedia when I get wifi.
((*))
Fred watched as Hermione disappeared before his eyes, the echoing pop of her departure resonating in his ears.
She's gone-They're gone-She's safe. That realization seemed to crash down upon him and allow his instincts to take over as his attention returned to the scene around him.
A good chunk of the guests had already apparated out. Then, as if sudden stop by a orchestra conductors, the remaining guests began to cry out as the anti-apparition wards had been restored. Couples were standing together on the floor, clutching one another but not able to flee, fear bubbling out in a panicked fright as they tried to find an exit from the tent.
Kingsley hadn't said who was coming, but he didn't need to. Fred knew who the ominous they were and was certain that those panicked guests trying to escape knew as well. Because they were the type of people that wouldn't stop at making a wedding a funeral.
His eyes were searching the room. George was striding towards him now, with Ginny in tow, her hair dancing like flames behind them. "Protego" he thundered as a Man in Ministry Robes darted between them. He hadn't drawn his wand yet, Fred was just going off the belief that man was a Death Eater; either way he had been knocked back as George reached his shoulder, shuttling Ginny to their backs as though to cover her from the bodies assembling at the mouth of the tent.
"They did get out, right?" George asked as he sent a stunner to the borders of the tent, knocking another uninvited guests off his feet, "Fred, are they here-"
"They're gone," he answered, glancing again at movement at the mouth of the tent. The hole in the top that had opened with a Death Eaters arrival had been extinguished. And at the door stood a man in fine dress robes; holding a neatly wrapped gift, his own eyes evaluating the scene in front of him as though it was an orchestrated, rehearsed part of the reception.
"Silence" he said, his voice stilling their movement. The remaining guests looked up from where they stood and the Death Eaters that had arrived looked up, several of them rising to their full height, their wands resting against them but still at the ready.
"Arthur," the man started with a smile as he walked towards his father, his hand extended "Sorry to intrude," he apologized, his voice warm as though he was a long lost friend of the family expecting a joyous reunion for young Billy's wedding. Fred was trying to read his dad's face: it was one of annoyance. He didn't extend his hand to the stranger. He just stood there with a firm expression that Fred was sure was making Molly Weasley proud.
The man drew back his hand, and straightened himself up, rolling off the dejection. His eyes looked now to Bill and Fleur, and he took a few steps towards them. Bill instinctively too a step forward while brushing Fleur partially behind his back. His scars made him look more angry and menacing than he was, but his expression was clear-this man wasn't on either he or Fleur's wedding lists and he wasn't welcome. The man looked at Bill and offered the same, phony smile he had given his dad before thrusting the package towards him. "Congratulations are in order I understand, From the Minister of Magic-"
Bill looked at the package, and then his father as though hoping for guidance. None of this seemed right; something was wrong.
The Ministry has fallen. Scrimgeour is Dead. That had been Kingsley's warning. If Scrimgeour was dead, who was the new Minister sending a gift to Bill and Fleur? Who were the people that had arrived with the Death Eaters-what had gone wrong where Scrimgeour had died? Fred had told Tonks and Kingsley there was a threat days ago. He had told them he had a credible source-that he had made up, some parent in the joke shopping whisper near the extendable ears-that Scrimgeour was at risk tonight. Had they not taken him seriously?
"Pius, please send our thanks to Scrimgeour, but I'm afraid the reception is nearly through," Mr Weasley said, taking a step towards his son. " The kids are about to leave on their Honeymoon-please tell him thanks but-"
"No need Arthur, no need," the man named Pius smiled, "For you see Scrimgeour didn't send this gift, I did," he smiled bemused.
"What?"
Whispers rippled throughout the tent. Remus, who was standing besides his father seemed to have gone pale, while a woman with blond ringlets and an upward pointing nose-who he assumed was Tonks-gasped next to Charlie. Fred noticed how a few of the assumed Death Eaters were now walking towards Pius to stand behind him. Their faces were becoming a little clearer in the light. Yaxley and Rockwood stood out as familiar among the others.
"I'm afraid Rufus caught ill and had to be expedited to St Mungos," Pius said, shaking his head with concern, " The House Elf found something in his tea cup, poison, we fear. Healers are trying desperately at this moment to resuscitate him."
The room was at a pause. Everyone was looking at this man, listening intently to his story. Everyone except George who was looking at Fred cautiously. They understood each other in that moment, and Fred knew that there was no way in hell that the former Head of Magical Law Enforcement-who had worked for decades alongside Alastor Moody-would be careless enough to leave his tea cup unattended and poisoned.
Something else had killed Rufus Scrimgeour. But it hadn't been the poison.
In fact, Fred was sure that something was a someone, and he was standing in front of them all right now.
"The Wizengamot met an hour ago, and have made me interim Minister for Magic," the man named Pius said with a small smile and a chuckle to himself, one that was unsteady and untrusting. "For the time being. Until Scrimgeour returns or an election is called."
Fred watched his mother take his father's hand. "Well, ah-Thanks for the update," Mr Weasley said, nodding his head, and looking to the ground "But please Pius, you understand, these kids have to go-"
"Surely," Pius smile, "But I'm afraid my visit is more than just a social call for the marriage of a Ministry Employee's son. No-there's a few matters of Ministry Business we need to attend to before your guests leave Arthur, shouldn't take too long, Rufus had just drawn up these papers before he-well, here."
Mr Weasley reached for the papers and looked a them, his mother reading over his arm. Her mouth was moving as she read along until one moment when she stopped, looking up at the party assembled.
"You're looking for Harry?" Mrs Weasley asked thunderstruck, a scowl settling on her face. "But why? What does that boy have to do with you?"
"He's wanted in connection to the murder of Albus Dumbledore," Pius said, his voice ringing through the tent, another ripple of whispers following, these louder than the first. Fred wouldn't be surprised if Auntie Muriel had just given herself whiplash as she muttered, rather loudly to her neighbor, "See Dodge! Dodgy man that Dumbledore!"
Pius continued on, loudly and evenly so all could hear, "New evidence has come to light that it was Harry, not Severus Snape that killed Dumbledore."
Fred felt his stomach clench; he could hear Ginny swearing behind him, and see his mother's face twist in disbelief and hatred, " No-not Harry-"
"If Potter is innocent the Wizengamot will clear him of all charges," Pius said, his voice strained, his expression was sympathy but it didn't reach his eyes. He wasn't fooling anyone when he said, "I don't want to believe Potter was involved anymore than the initial inquiry determined but we can't rule out the possibility."
"He's a boy though," his mother said, "He's-"
"-wanted for questioning in a murder investigation." Pius finished, " It's rather urgent we meet with him. So please, Arthur if you could, where is he?"
His father looked up and shrugged, looking towards Pius and then his wife. "I don't- we don't know," he answered, "He was supposed to come to the Wedding but he never made it to the rendezvous point he and Ron had set up."
Fred looked at George out of the side of his eye; He wasn't speaking but he could feel his heart racing. He wondered if his parents had come up with a story ahead of time; if they had thought there would be a need-or if his dad was coming up with this as he went.
Pius' smile seemed to slip away as a scowl deepened on Yaxley's face.
"We know he's not in Surrey," Yaxley said, his voice rougher than Pius "Ministry representatives tried to interview Potter Sunday evening but he was already gone, his relations as well. The boy has spent every summer here since he was twelve, you expect us to believe that he's not here?"
"Search the house if you'd like," Mr Weasley said firmly, " You won't find Harry here. He was supposed to come two days ago; we were going to have a birthday celebration but he didn't met Ron at the Muggle Train Depot like they had planned."
"The Train Depot?" Yaxley asked unimpressed.
"Like you said, he's just barely of age; would had to have come the muggle way," Mr Weasley explained. "Now please, will you-"
His father's voice stopped while his mouth kept moving. He raised his hand to his throat and it was becoming very apparent he was struggling to breath. Fred looked and saw Rockwood had raised his wand, his face hot with anger, "Are you lying Weasel? We don't have time for this-"
His mother was looking anxiously at his father and then Pius, "Please, he's telling the truth-we, we've gone looking for Harry the last two days trying to find him and bring him home but we haven't seen him, we haven't been able to find him. Please," she stuttered, looking from Pius again to her husband, "Please, you can ask Ron-he's lying in his room, he wasn't feeling well after the ceremony. He'll tell you."
Pius raised his wand and the color in his father's face seemed to come back, his breaths deep and long. "Rockwood, bring young Ronald down to the party, see if he can corroborate his parents' story."
Rockwood and another man disappeared into the house and Fred sighed a breath of relief, he'd like to see those goons bring out the ghoul.
"Right, while we wait for Ron, I need to have a brief conversation with Miss Granger? Could we do that in the kitchen while Rockwood comes?"
Fred tensed but kept his face straight, even if his eyes had grown wide. "What do you want with 'Ermione?" Fleur asked, stepping out of Bill's shadow.
"Her connection with Potter is well known and publicized. We want her statement of what happened the night Dumbledore died," Pius explained, waving his wand as a flute of meade rushed his way, "She's also required for a new Muggleborn Registration Commission the Ministry will be rolling out in tomorrow's Prophet, I was hoping to offer her a chance to meet in person for an interview rather than making her wait for the Commission to give her an assigned time to meet."
Muggleborn Registration Commission-Fred was convinced it was in her journal, and he was also convinced it wasn't as pleasant and convenient as the new Minister was making it out to be.
"She's not here either," Fred said, his voice firm " she's not even in the country."
Pius wiped his head to face Fred straight on, "Then where is she?" he asked. Fred noticed how the New Minister was seemingly growing more agitated as, one by one, the golden trio seemed to becoming more and more inaccessable for his questioning-that his first hour as Minister was being thwarted by some meddling kids.
"Ilvermorny," Fred answered, trying not to smile as he said it. "Around the time the Muggle Studies professor went missing. Her parents got jobs in Boston and all Hermione would tell me is she was transferring to Ilvermorny in the fall."
"She would leave her friends?" Pius countered not believing his words, "She'd leave Harry Potter so she could go run off to America to finish her education?"
"You must not know Hermione Granger well," George answered, "if there's anything you can bet on its that girl and her education."
"Why not stay at Hogwarts?" he barked, walking towards the two brothers. He noticed his eyes were beady, like a bird sizing up its prey, "Why pack up go overseas, her last year of all years, to someplace foreign, to start new?"
"If they weren't able to keep a Muggle Studies Professor safe, what would make her think they'd be able to protect muggleborn students?" Fred asked, " Listen, I took her to the airport myself. They went on a vacation to Spain and they never came back. You can search every cave and coffee shop on this island and you won't find Hermione anywhere."
That seemed to have been the final straw for the New Minister. His eyebrow seemed to twitch and he turned his back to Fred while looking to his parents. " So, Harry Potter," he seemed to spit out the last syllable of Harry's name, " Is missing; did not make it to his rendezvous and is a murderer at large. We'll have to alert the Muggle Minister," he said turning to Yaxley, ignoring the cries coming from his accusation towards Harry.
"Hermione Granger-" he said, looking at the ground as he walked, he looked up again to Yaxley and said something quietly to Yaxley. He couldn't make it out by made a note to ask his parents later. He nodded as Yaxley respond and a little louder he answered, "Right-no doubt there."
Rockwood and his accomplice staggered back to the tent, both with disgust etched on their face. Pius looked at the two and his displeasure continued to bubble. "Where's the boy?"
"His sick in bed," Rockwood spat, laying their moaning and groaning. Could get a coherent response out of him. Big green pustules on his face-you're going to have to get him to St Mungos if you want to get anything out of him."
Fred breathed a little easier. It had worked. Their bluff was working.
"But wasn't he just here? Wasn't he at this wedding hours ago?"
"He had been complaining about being ill earlier," Charlie interjected. "We sent him up about two hours ago, his speech was slurring we just thought he had drunk too much of the Honey Mead."
The Minister tapped his shoe twice straightened up and again, put on a cool political smile. "Very well. Medical Representatives from St Mungo's will arrive tomorrow to examine your son. Once he is cured, he will need to sit for an interview regarding his knowledge of Harry Potter and his whereabouts," he looked around the tent and noticed Ginny for the slightest moment, "When your son's better bring both him and your daughter for interviews."
"Why her?" Mr Weasley asked. Fred noted how his dad now had his work voice, as though he hoped that would mask his growing rage.
"I'm not new Arthur, I know where Potter goes, she's followed in the past… yes, get her and that Longbottom boy while your at it, I'll need them in the Ministry in the morning."
"Ginny's underage," Remus spoke up, inserting himself between Mr and Mrs Weasley, "According to the 1980 Decree for the Interrogations of Wizards and Witches, underage youths are protected by the integrity of the Trace. They can decline an interview if no purpose is given; They also require parental consent before they meet for said interview, a parent must accompany them and it must be conducted in a location determined by the parent, not a Ministry building."
As Pius Thicknesse fumed, Fred had a new sense of respect for Remus Lupin.
The New Minister looked like was so angry he could spit. And Fred could sense it. Hell, he looked over and saw the nervous expression etched on Tonks face and he knew she felt it too. But Lupin stood, with the shadow of a smile on his face.
"Very well," he spat, "Very-well," he repeated, almost as if trying to defuse his temper. "Miss Weasley, we will send you a request for an interview in the coming days. I will have a full report on your son's medical condition by noon tomorrow. And-" he said, striding towards the door, his wand in hand, little green sparks emanating from the end, "This goes for all of you-If anyone sees Harry Potter, if anyone has contact with him, or helps him in anyway, you are to report it at once to the Ministry of Magic."
((*))
The last of their guests had finally left the Burrow.
Muriel was the last, taking her Portkey back to Avalon with a twisted smile. "I haven't had that much fun at a Weasley Wedding since Billus was alive," she said with a laugh "So much I can tell Lucinda Merrythought when I see her for bridge next week."
Now, the family, Remus and Tonks sat assembled along the kitchen table. The Delacours had taken an international portkey back home, taking with them statements for the French Ministry over what had happened that night.
"Do you think Kingsley will come and tell us what really happened?" Ginny asked, looking at her parents, "He warned us surely he would want to tell us-"
"He's probably being watched right now sweet heart," Mrs Weasley sighed, kissing her daughter's forehead and waving over the tea kettle, " If we're being honest, we probably are too."
"George and I did a sweep of the house, I think we found the bugs those swine put out. I left one in Ron's room so they'll be listening to the ghoul until they tire of us," Fred sighed, picking up his mug.
"We'll want to put one more back-set it on the stairs. I'll cast Muffliato on it and it'll be faulty," Mr Weasley counselled, " if we just have the one, they get suspicious and do another sweep of the house. Or pull Ginny in for an interrogation."
"Good thinking earlier Remus," Charlie said with a weak smile, " That was incredibly fast thinking."
"Those who often have the law used against them are usually those best versed in law," Lupin said with a sad smile; "Lily always said I would have been an excellent Barrister if the law permitted."
"Why do zhey want to talk to Gin'ny though?" Fleur asked uneasy, "It was a bit of a stretch but I can underztand vhy zhey'd want to zee 'Ermione, but Gin'ny?"
"I think they want a bargaining chip," said Mr Weasley looking at his youngest nervously, " we're not fooling anyone, the Ministry knows our family has aligned with Harry, Dumbledore and the Order. I'm afraid they'd get Ginny in an interview, find a way to get her in custody and then they have leverage to keep us all in line until the war ends."
"That's all well and good for now," said Charlie, "But Gin's birthday isn't two weeks away," he muttered, "What are we going to do when the Ministry crashes the next Weasley Family gathering?"
"They want to talk to her about something that happened while she was under the trace," Remus continued, waving his hand evenly against the table, "Even if it happened when she's at the school, she was under the trace. There are some spells that even if you're at Hogwarts will trigger the Department of Misused Magic. Those are automatically generated, they couldn't backdate everything. She should be safe."
"Well, Hermione should be safe too," George said, "But thanks to Harry shes persona non grata as well."
"What was it that Pius said to Yaxley about her," Fred asked, "We couldn't hear back from where we were."
"It didn't really make sense, but Pius asked if the Ministry had note of the Grangers travel records and Yaxley said they had been traced to New York," Mr Weasley answered, "Suppose they could have taken the train down to Boston-"
"Good," Fred said, "That's good."
"Do you know where her parents are?" Remus asked, an eyebrow raised.
"I just know they're not in Essex. They could be anywhere from Krakow to Boston-Hermione was very thorough in her planning. They won't find the Grangers," Fred said evenly.
"Well that's a relief," Tonks sighed leaning against Remus, "That Muggleborn Registration bit doesn't sound good-We'll have to tip dad off on that."
A stillness fell over the table. Fred's watch told him it was nearly two in the morning. They were all still in their wedding clothes; Fleur had one of her light blue dressing robes covering her dress as her once elaborate hair fell limply down her back.
"The Ministry has fallen," their father said, looking at his children as he did. "Remus, your mum and I know what that means. You-Know-Who never took control of the Ministry last time, but he had enough of his agents infiltrating different departments at various levels. Whatever happens," he started staring at each of them, "No matter what they say, no matter what you hear, no matter what you see, you can't let them take your humanity. You can't be careless or they'll get you that's just a matter of fact-but don't let the fear of what's going on keep you from doing what's right. This is a war, but it's not the Weasleys versus the world, its us, and other good people against Him. "
Fred turned his gaze to his mother. She had her hand wrapped around his father's arm as though she was trying to garner support, as though he was steadying her with his words.
Bill waved his wand and ten glasses came over from the pantry, Firewhiskey uncorking itself and filling the glasses as they divided to those around the table.
"The Ministry will look for any excuse to bring you in," his father continued, "You can't give it to them. But if you see someone who needs help, or you hear that someone's in danger, do something. We can tell you from experience," he said, his thumb brushing against his mother's hand, "you'll be able to sleep easier after this is all over if you're not haunted by the faces of those you didn't try to save."
He raised his glass and they all followed, taking their drink. In the course of not even twenty four hours, Fred thought, he had confronted and broken up with Hermione over her journal and her secrets about the future, or past, or whichever it was. He had watched his brother get married, the whole time dreading a future where it would be Hermione and Ron standing in his parents back garden. They had another argument while their had danced and he had pushed her, again, to his brother so they could escape. So they could do whatever needed to be done to end this.
Was she haunted by the faces she couldn't save last time? He wondered, Do you haunt her even now?
"Dad," Ginny spoke quietly, " Dad-is there any way we can let Harry know we're ok? The last thing he saw before disappearing was all of us being surrounded by Death Eaters."
Remus looked at Mr Weasley, "He'll be concerned. You know Harry-"
"When you were in the Hospital two years ago he blamed himself remember? If he thinks anythings happened to any of us-" Ginny trailed off.
Mr Weasley looked around the table, his eyes falling last on Mrs Weasley. Fred watched his mother nod and with a smile she whispered, "Ron will be worried too-he'll want to make sure the family is ok."
"They cannot track a patronus," Remus said quietly, "But we can't encourage the three of them to send us one back. Your father's right to assume we're being watched. If we are and a stag shows up while we're at work or in the Alley they'd be able to take us in and hold us as leverage against the three of them. We must all agree we just do this once."
Mr Weasley raised his wand " Expecto Patronum" he said, the familiar Weasel with his father's eyeglasses marked on its face.
"Family safe. Do not respond. We are being watched," he said, his wand raised to his throat. He waved it farther out and speaking to the Patronus instructed, "Only deliver if they are alone."
They all watched as the weasel nodded and disappeared through the window and into the night.
One by one, they left the table. Bill and Fleur apparating to Muriel's Summer Cottage where they would sleep before starting their honeymoon in Provence in the morning. Ginny too tumbled up the stairs to sleep, only-Fred Assumed- after she did a careful searching to see if Hermione had left a note, a book, any evidence she'd been there that summer. Remus and Tonks left for home and Charlie bade his parents goodnight before making his journey to bed.
"Are you boys going to stay the night?" Mr Weasley asked as Mrs Weasley took off her earrings and headed towards bed.
"We should be on the alley, business as usual," George said turning to Fred, "Right?"
Fred nodded, "We'll need to get the defense cloaks and hats out, I have a feeling sales are going to go up on those in the coming weeks."
((*))
His watch read four in the morning, and he was still pacing his bedroom floor, looking at the book he had lying on his bed.
He had given her the original. But, damn him all to hell, he had wanted to keep a copy for himself, he wanted to have something to guide him as he tried to save lives. Perhaps if he used her notes, he'd do what they both wanted and saved lives. The list at the back of the book wasn't enough though. Part of him thought that he could make it easier for the three of them. If they had help on the outside, maybe they'd end the war sooner and they could have their reconciliation-if that's what she wanted.
Promise me you won't do anything reckless. That's what she had asked of him. Was this reckless? Trying to save people? Trying to limit the faces that would haunt them if they failed? Or was trying, simply making an effort to keep them alive, was trying enough?
He looked at the book and put it in the loose floorboards in front of his dresser. It'd be safe there, lie in wait till he needed to reference it.
But that wasn't what kept him awake now.
His dad had told the family to be careful, but to not mindlessly accept what was happening-to be active in helping others. While there was possibilities in recklessness given the brother's interpretation of their father's instructions, it was more a charge to be actively engaged in bringing You-Know-Who down.
It's late, she'll already be asleep--you had her crying the night before at 4 in the morning, she's probably dead exhausted and not up.
He closed his eyes and could see hers, turning back, Her hands in Ron and Harry's. Looking back at him a her last glance at the chaos that was consuming them.
Her dark, deep brown eyes that new the balance of the War and the struggles to come. That new the heartaches and had at one time had known the heart beats they had shared together.
He closed his eyes again and thought of Mallorca. Of the sound of Spanish Guitar and salty sea air. Of those familiar deep brown eyes smiling back at him as they twirled across the square.
"Expecto Patronum"
((*))
Hermione laid wide awake in Grimmauld place.
She wasn't sure how late it was, but she knew it was late enough to be considered early morning. She had forgotten to put sleeping pills in her purple bag , but in full honesty, doubted even that would have helped her tonight.
Nestled on the sofa she had watched the shadows of the room change through the moonlight coming out of the windows. Ron was laying on the ground beside her. Harry was asleep on another couch between them. Perhaps tomorrow they'd find Kreature and start making the house habitable again. At the very least, she'd get a series of cleaning spells and get three bedrooms straightened out. Mrs Weasley had done a lot of the hard work when they first moved headquarters, she figured by the end of the week-with or without Kreature's help, they'd get the house liveable again, aside from Mrs Black.
She heard Harry fidget in his sleep. She lifted her head to see if he was awake but he remained still on his pillow.
She knew the connection was open. She knew he'd seen inside Voldemort's mind hours ago in the bathroom. She wondered how many more times the next few days he would.
She wondered how many more times it would happen before the war was over.
((*))
"Where the bloody hell are we?" Ron asked as they emerged from Dominion Theater, "Hermione?" he asked his voice higher, as he reached out for her hand with his. She wasn't sure if he was squeezing it in hopes of assuring her, or in the hopes she would assure him.
"We're fine, we're fine," she said taking his and Harry hands and making there way down the sidewalk. "We're on Tottenham Court Road" she said, keeping her eyes set on something in the distance, walking with purpose through the crowds, "I-I used to come here, with my parents."
With Fred.
"Why are we here though?" Harry asked, looking at the people making gawking looks at he and Ron's robes
"It was the first place I could think of. Lots of people, some of them dressed nice, a little bit more conspicuous than popping up in Piccadily dressed the way we are," she said as they stopped at an intersection.
The boys were talking. She wasn't sure if they were talking to her or not. She was trying to focus on their next move. The cafe they had gone to last them was three blocks down if they turned on Oxford Street, but if they headed to Tottenham Court Station they could apparate from the cupboard she and Fred had and straight onto Gimmualds front step.
Do that, she thought. She had knicked some food from the Wedding, they could eat that get a good night's rest before coming up with the plan of action in the morning.
She gave a sigh of relief. Maybe this do-over wouldn't be too bad after all?
"Hermione are you listening?" Harry asked, his hand on her elbow, "Hermione, Ron asked if you thought Voldemort is at the Burrow?"
Bloody Harry Potter.
Voldemort's name triggered something she had forgot. Something that she had blissfully forgot and remembered as the hair rose on her arms. She looked along the street, the very busy street where soon Death Eaters would descend on them. They'd probably take some Muggles too just for sport.
She grasped both of their hands and marched down a side alley, casting looks around her shoulders every five steps. "Wands out," she muttered to both of them, letting go of their hands and turning to face the mouth of the alley. It was a classic dead end but she supposed that wasn't a bad thing. They'd see them coming; and the three of them were armed, and at least one of them had a game plan.
"Hermione-what the hell-"
"Shh-listen I can't explain why right now, but if people start coming down the alleyway you just shoot. Stun. Hex. Whatever. Do it before they see you."
Ron turned to Harry, "What's going-"
Two figures appeared at the end of the road. They were wearing the same workers uniforms that they had last time. She could see the familiar outline of Dolohov's face, the sharp point of his chin.
"Flipendo!" Hermione bellowed, watching as the knockback jinx slammed one against the wall.
"Hermione, you just hexed a muggle!" Ron gasped, "Harr-"
"Impedimenta" Harry said, a red wave hitting the Death Eater still standing, a non verbal spell accompanying it so he too hit his head against the wall of the alley and slumped to the ground.
Ron ran out before either of them, his wand tip bathed in light as he looked at their faces. "It's Dolohov. How did he find us?" he asked, his eyes wide with concern. "How did either of the find us?"
"Hermione," Harry said, staring at the blonde Death Eater slumped opposite of Dolohov, "How did you know?"
"Taboo Magic," she said, looking at Dolohov and twisting her wand to remove any memories he had of the alley way. "It's, It's complicated but Taboo Magic was something that was used in the last days of Voldemort's reign last time."
That was a blatant lie. But she knew both Harry and Ron didn't know this. She had gone through six years of History of Magic with them. And she also knew they wouldn't question her. Least of all about something like this.
"Taboo Magic?" Ron asked, "What's that? They just charm a word and summon the kraken?"
"Sort of?" she sighed, "It's where they find a word-or a phrase, and they tag it as a Taboo," Hermione said, now wiping the memories of the blonde Death Eater. She looked at Harry, " They mark it to where if someone says the word, it triggers an alert and they can track you. I had a hunch they'd do something like that this time, and You-Know-Who's name was one that came to mind."
"His name?" Harry asked, raising his eyebrows, "He's tabooed his own name?"
"You have to give them credit, it's a smart move," Hermione said, leaning against the wall, brushing her short hair with her fingers, "The only people who would say You-Know-Who's name are members of the Order, people that are serious about bringing him down. Not even his followers call him by his name, to them he's just The Dark Lord. "
"So we say his name, and two Death Eaters show up to neutralize the threat?" Harry asked, looking at the two leaning against the wall.
Hermione nodded. "Come on, we need to get off the streets, I don't want to be here when these guys wake up. With any luck, The Death Eaters think I'm at Ilvermorny and Ron's dying at home."
"Well where should we go? Leaky Cauldron?" Ron asked, "We could lay low-"
"I'm not getting Polyjuice Poisoning camping out in the Leaky Cauldron," Hermione said with a snap, "Grimmauld. I know Snape can get in but right now it's a place we know they can't," she turned to Harry, "Please Harry."
The three of them clasped hands and with a sudden pop left the Death Eaters in the deserted alleyway.
((*))
Harry had gone to the restroom not long after they had made up camp in the drawing room. Hermione had collapsed on the sofa, finally breaking out of her wedding heals and taking a deep breath at the end of day one.
"I never got to tell you, but your hair looked nice today," Ron said, sitting on the ground in front of her, leaning his back against the sofa.
"Thanks Ron," Hermione said, keeping her eyes closed and leaning her head back. Her mind and body trying to catch up with the last few hours.
"Actually, you just really looked nice today. The dress-the color suits you."
This time her eyes opened, she knew the tone of voice he was using. And suddenly her breaths weren't as deep as she'd have liked.
"Thanks," she said, leaning forward to where her elbows rested on her knees and she was leaning over talking to Ron. " Ginny helped, she really has an eye for colors."
Ron smiled, turning to look at her. He had that smile. That damning, friendly, trusting Ron Weasley smile. " Well she did a great job. If Fleur wasn't part Veela I'm sure she'd been a rage of how good you looked at her wedding."
Hermione gave a nervous laugh, "Thanks Ron, I appreciate that," she said laughing slugging his shoulder.
"No That's not what I meant-" he said, laughing at his own words, "Well, actually it is, but not how it came out."
Hermione looked at her friend and smoothed out his hair, "I know, I just appreciate a laugh," she said, carefully coupling it with, "You're good friend Ron, Thank You."
He smiled, but she noticed it dimmed, ever so slightly. "Do you think he'll come out of there?" Ron asked motioning to the hall where Harry was in the restroom.
"Honestly, I think he's trying to process his thoughts too. It's been a long day," she summoned her purse and handed him his night clothes, "I'm going to get out of these and tuck in for the night, I think some sleep with do us all good."
Ron nodded, took his packet and started headed to the door. He then turned to Hermione, "Do you think they're ok? Everyone at the Burrow?"
When he asked, he reminded her of a fourteen year old Ron who had asked about Sirius when they woke up in the Hospital Wing their Third Year. The concern tucked between his brows.
"I'm sure they are Ron-"
Harry walked out of the bathroom, looking pale and clammy, and she wondered if it was sweat or water thrown against his face.
Suddenly, a glowing, white weasel Patronus tumbled through the air landing at Ron's feet. Mr Weasley's familiar and warm voice spilling out. "Family Safe. Don't respond. We're being watched."
The words broke smile on both Harry and Ron's faces. They turned to each other and in a way she had only seen between the two of them and perhaps Fred and George, they turned and embraced each other. "They're alright," Ron sighed, his words heavy with emotion. "They're alright," he said again, reaching his spare arm out for Hermione before bringing her in for the rare trio hug.
"They're alright."
((*))
They had stayed up a little later after that, eating the tea cakes Hermione had in her purse and relaxing. Harry sharing news of what he overheard from Muriel and Hermione as always, down playing her conversation with Victor to a somewhat jealous Ron.
"Honestly, Charlie spoke with him more than I did," Hermione had explained, "As soon as you left to get Spattergroit, Charlie swooped him up and I couldn't get a word in edgewise."
Ron hadn't been convinced but seemed to be a little less put out after that addition.
The three of them decided to sleep together the first night, least, as Ron put it, Snape set loose a Chimaera in the house and they were at risk of becoming beast food. She had offered to help charm a third sofa up from the room down stairs but Ron refused, setting some cushions from a neighboring bed room on the floor between her and Harry's respective couches.
"Ron, honestly it wouldn't take more than five minutes-" she had tried but he had made up his mind that that was his spot.
"I'm too tired to move," He said, laying down and turning on his side so he was facing her, " Tomorrow I'll sleep in a real bed but tonight I want to stay here."
She smiled, and she could remember exactly their first night at Grimmauld Place. They had talked about fears they had. How she was worried she hadn't read enough-that without the reach of the Hogwarts Library she would finally fail them. He had told her he was terrified before his Dad's patronus came that his family had been murdered. "Maybe not all of them, I'm sure one of them would have got away but-You-Know-Who's not playing this time, he's not afraid to kill people."
"But he didn't get any of them, she had comforted, "They're alright. And we'll be alright too."
She had comforted him, She had promised, maybe optimistically, maybe believing the old muggle lie that all conflicts end by Christmas-she had promised they'd get the horcruxes in no time and be home in time to open his mother's Christmas sweater.
But last time it was almost intimate. Last time, she had hope for the two of them.
This time, she had broken up with his brother less than a day ago.
This time, even in her annoyed fury with Fred, she'd give the world to have him on the floor next to her.
So when he turned his face to her, she pulled up her blanket and tucked it under her chin.
"Good night Ron," she whispered, dozing into an uneasy rest.
((*))
She woke up on and off throughout the night. Sometimes for a long period of time, others for a few fleeting moments, but this had been the longest stretch yet. The moonlight bathing the room, Harry and Ron asleep, their snoores creating an orchestra only the dead could appreciate.
She sat up and walked over to the window. No one was guarding the gate yet, but she knew coming morning someone would be there, She wondered what had happened after they left; if the cover stories they had so carefully laid out had worked or if it had faltered and the family was alright but at risk.
She reached for her purse and summoned a mug, muttering "Aguamenti" as it filled up.
If she was still up in a half hour she'd warm the water and make some tea.
It she was still up in an hour, she'd head downstairs and make some coffee.
She nestled back on the couch and pulled up her blankets again. She had just laid down when moonlight bathed her feet. It was unusually warm and then she opened her eyes to realize it wasn't moonlight at all.
It was a silver, glowing fox. The one she had seen at Slughorn's Christmas Party the year before. Now, tilting his head as he looked at her curiously.
"Rapier" she whispered, watching as it seemingly walked up her legs and sat on her lap, the fluffy tail curled around its front.
"I can't say much; Dad thinks we're being watched. I Promise, Hermione," the voice said steadily, yet soft as to not wake the boys, "But be safe. Be careful," the patronus stared deep in her eyes, "Please Hermione, be careful."
He lingered for a moment, just as she suppose Fred would if he was there. And then, in the falling moonlight, he disappeared for good.
AN:
Alrighty. Chapter initially finished in the train on the trip from hell. (Not really, it's just been a very long day). By the time you read this I'll have edited and hopefully posted so we all have a little more happiness going into 2019.
This was one of the more dominant Fred Chapters, but It was really fun writing what happened at the Burrow when the party fell apart. Probably enjoyed that bit a little bit more than I ought to of. Also the double journal-I've been on the fence about this but when I outlined the next ten or so chapters I saw less harm than good os hopefully that was right and not a meaningless side note to torture y'all with.
Also I really hate that they've broken up. I hate still that i have to write them angry. But i promise guys, this too shall pass.
I'm up for a job transfer this month so hopefully there will be an update in the coming weeks. I also have the return trip so who knows, maybe we'll get a jump start there. Next Chapter (according to my outline...)Has Harry and the gang casing out the Ministry with pop in visits from Kreature, Remus and someone we thought we had said goodbye too (*bum bum bum*). Also we'll see the Passport and Muggleborn Evacuations first hand. Get ready guys, the War is in full swing and so our are kids.
To Auld Lang Syne my dears,
KH