A/N: Thank you guys so much for the reviews! Getting good feedback is so amazing and encouraging, I can't wait to keep sharing this story with you all.
Winter afternoons in London are something of a balancing act. On one hand the cold rushes through narrow streets making any time outside a bleak affair. Outstandingly small amounts of sleet suggest that it's winter, but it's hard to be sure. Looming stone buildings intimidate one another and act as walls to the twisted pathways. But the other side of things adds a quiet beauty to it all. Cars float up and down the cobble stone and groups of people huddle together as they brave the sidewalks. An impossible to understand heat is produced by the cities population, and it slowly flows from one end to the other. The ordeal is a testament to the ongoing battle between the elements and the unexplainable warmth of humans. Winters simply cannot be endured without someone at your side.
Two figures walked down the slushy sidewalks wiping sleep from their eyes. It was afternoon and they had been working all day, but Harry and Ron had begun the day exhausted after staying on their apartment's rooftop until the late hours of the night. They walked in comfortable silence marching on towards a sandwich shop a few blocks away. They walked without thinking, their path memorized from countless lunch breaks spent there. This routine walk, however, was interrupted when they began to walk past a small alleyway between two buildings.
"H...Harry? Harry Potter? Is that you?"
Harry and Ron stopped in their place. They both peered into the alleyway, hands on their wands in their pockets just in case. However, their grips on their wands weakened when the man moved out of the shadows enough to see his features.
"Stan Shunpike? What're you doing down there?"
Ron's question seemed to somewhat embarrass Stan. His face moved back into shadow for a moment, but then he turned back around to answer.
"I, er, don't know, really. I don't know anything. These past months, years, I...I don't remember any of it. That curse, whatever those dark magic gits use..."
Stan's sentence trailed off as he began to rummage in his coat pockets. Finally he pulled out a cigarette and the end began to burn as he put the other end to his pale lips.
"If you'll excuse me, I have to be heading to the post office."
Stan turned about and began to walk down the shadowed alley. Harry and Ron had observed this all in silence, and now that Stan was gone, they both looked at each other. They turned and began to walk down the street once more.
"You think he meant the Imperius curse? I mean, what else could he mean, really," Ron thought out loud to Harry. He nodded in agreement, still somewhat confused by the chance of the encounter.
"So you reckon all the spells broke after you killed Voldemort?"
"Yeah, I suppose so."
"Bloody hell...so many people, just waking up at once. Don't even know what they might've done."
Harry stayed quiet for a moment, thinking the same things his friend was, but not willing to ask the questions. Ron was more willing, however, and he spent the rest of their lunch break wondering out loud.
"How long do you think Stan could've been under? The whole war?"
"Yeah, maybe."
"And how many people did they get? A hundred? A thousand? It's mad, that's what it is."
"Yeah, mate."
"Do you reckon any of the people coming forward about it are lying? Trying to cover their arses for the things they did?"
This conversation continued all the way to the restaurant and throughout the duration of their meal. Ron kept posing questions, Harry answering shortly. It wasn't as though Harry was disinterested, he too had a million thoughts going through his head. After they finished their sandwiches and Ron felt himself satisfied with the discussion of the curse subject, they made their way out of the shop. They opened the door to leave and were met with a brisk push of wind and the noise of thousands of other people going about their business.
Harry and Ron spent the next few moments walking in silence. They were headed back to the Ministry, retracing their steps from where they just came. For the second time, they passed a small building with clean grey bricks and large display windows. The lights in the displays allowed brilliant color to reflect off of the shining rings and other jewelry inside. Harry walked with intent to continue on, but this time, Ron slowed his pace and then all together stopped in front of this storefront. Harry stopped a few steps in front of him, but doubled back to see what his friend was interested in. He could see the serious look on Ron's face reflected in the window as he gazed at a small silver band with a glittering stone.
Harry knew from Ron's expression that the subject he was about to breach was an important one. After the previous nights events, however, Harry felt especially inclined to try and help his best friend. It was rare that the two would find themselves facing a romantic situation that they could not got to Hermione for advice on, but on these rare occasions they tried to work out the best solution between themselves.
"Expensive little gits, aren't they."
Harry glanced at Ron's face, still focused on the engagement band. Harry then turned his attention back to the window, replying sincerely,
"Worth the investment, though."
Before Ron could respond, however, something strange happened. A loud cracking noise bounced off the tall buildings and the world entirely confused Harry for a split second. The sounds of the busy London streets was replaced by a horrid ringing. Everything seemed to halt, the world itself froze. And then, a heat engulfed his body. It was a wildly peculiar split second, but before Harry could even question what was happening a force brought with the heat lifted him off his feet and tossed him forcefully. Harry and Ron were thrown violently backwards as the small stone post office next to the jewelry store exploded into roaring green fire. The inferno consumed the street around it and launched debris carelessly. Cars, people, anything in the immediate area of the post office had been lost in the flame with no warning at all, consumed to nothingness. The two aurors laid dazed and shocked on the shrapnel covered pavement. The only thing Harry could hear was his own struggled breathing and all he saw was flame and smoke. He felt hands on his shoulders and found himself being rolled onto his back. He began to jerk backwards before realizing it was Ron grabbing him. His red headed friend was covered in soot and sported a head wound that looked unbearable. Harry could only assume Ron was unaware of the gash due to the adrenaline coursing through his veins. He wondered when his adrenaline would begin to flow and alleviate the pain he was feelings in his side for a bit. He didn't have to wait for long. Out of the burning chaos emerged two shadowed figures.
Immediately Harry forgot his pain and confusion and was on his feet. The two aurors drew their wands and began to fight the hooded figures through the smoke that still hung in the air. Flashes of green and red flew between them. The cloaked men sent curses that Harry and Ron promptly deflected. Finally, one of Harry's spells, a quickly sent "Stupefy!", connected with one of the figures.
The attacker fell to the ground, and all at once the battle halted. The other hooded man stopped firing curses at Ron. As Harry ran over and grabbed the one he had stunned, he sat him up and took his wand, noticing the tattoo on his inner arm.
Ron stayed in place, with the other death eater still in his sights. Harry prepared to being questioning the other one, but before he could, a flash of green light exploded in front of him and he heard a yell. When the chaos waned again, Harry saw the death eater in front of him, face down, dead, the other was nowhere to be seen. Ron made his way over to Harry, and Harry could hear Ron whispering a string of profanities under his breath. In silent agreement, they both began to move towards to rubble of the post office.
They stepped over the threshold of crumbling stone into what was previously a small post office. The scene inside what was left of the structure was harrowing. Bits of paper flew around the still smoky air. Demolished furniture laid around the floor, pieces of draping and wood still burned. Harry and Ron searched for someone, anyone they could save. It was useless; those inside had perished instantly. They were unidentifiable, and it sickened the two friends to walk among them like this.
They approached the back room of the post office. The door, still intact, was heavy stone. Harry and Ron forced it open, and the scene inside was unimaginable.
Stan Shunpike, alive just an hour earlier, hung suspended in the air. His skin burned, his neck broken, a look of perpetual terror etched on his face. His left sleeve was rolled up, exposing the only part of his body still containing real skin. The tattoo on his arm, black as ever, stood out even against his charred flesh. When Harry and Ron finally broke their stare from his body, they became aware of the writing on the wall in glowing letters.
"TRAITORS ARE RARELY FORGOTTEN."
The first words since they entered the building were spoken by Ron the next moment.
"Bloody hell."
Night had fallen by the time the two friends were on their way home. After the events that had transpired at lunch time they found themselves back at the Ministry, however not for training. As the only two living witnesses of the assailants, and the most prominent members of the wizarding community on the scene, their statements had to be taken before they could even begin to examine the case as aurors.
Harry was thankful for the chill of the night when he thought about the days earlier events. He and Ron walked home in tattered and burnt clothing, and the feeling that their exhaustion earlier was only child play compared to how they felt now. Ron sported a large bandage across his forehead, and Harry was finally beginning to feel the full effect of his broken rib.
"I thought this was over, Harry. I thought they captured them all. Am I going mental! Tell me that didn't just happen."
Ron's anger, frustration, and incredulity was reflected in Harry's mind. He had no idea what to do about what happened. He, too, thought this was all over.
"Why were they in London? What did Stan do? I thought he was imperious'd...Ron, none of it makes sense."
They turned over questions that they had been posed with all day. Ron, Harry, and the other aurors in the Ministry spent hours trying to decipher the meaning of the attack and the message itself. They brought in suspected dark magic sympathizers, offering immunity for information, looking for some way to identify who the death eater that had escaped the scene was. At the end of the day, however, they were left with more questions than they had begun with.
The two walked through the door of their flat, and before they could even make it into the living room they heard the woosh of someone arriving via floo network. As they made their way into the house they found Mr. Weasley in the room. He let out a sigh of relief when he saw the boys.
"Oh thank god, Molly's been losing her head all day, we're so glad you're okay...what happened out there?"
Ron explained the occurrences in London to his father as Harry sat and listened. He could not organize his thoughts and did not wish to.
Ron's story ended and they sat in a morose silence. Mr. Weasley's usual genial nature was nowhere to be found, and Harry and Ron sat exhausted, both physically and mentally.
"Boys, you need to get out of London. Christmas is coming up, please come spend it at the Burrow with the rest of the family. It's just not safe here, and we have dealt with enough of this for a lifetime."
Ron agreed, and Harry nodded as well.
"Right then. Well, you two are more than welcome to come as soon as you can. Next week, maybe? The sooner you're out of here the better. Call the Ministry and explain, I'm sure they'll understand."
After a few more minutes of discussion, Mr. Weasley excused himself to go back home and tell Molly that they were alive. He walked back to the fireplace and was then gone. For quite some time after he left, Harry and Ron sat on the couch, watching the fire crackle and burn.