Author's Note: Thanks for your patience! I'm home again, and here's the next chapter. As I warned you all, the thoughtful chapters are at an end (for now), and the action has begun again. Which means we're heading into very upsetting territory . . . .

When December rolled around, I was invited to spend the Christmas holiday at the Burrow with the Weasley family. Hermione, understandably enough, was splitting her time between her home and the Burrow; Harry had been persuaded to come after he was reminded that no one had attacked the house when he was there for Bill's wedding, so it seemed safe enough for him to be there.

As for me, I knew what was going to happen. I didn't try to stop it.

Molly greeted us in London cheerfully; I knew she was always happiest when she had all her children with her. She gave Ron a huge kiss on the cheek, which he stoically allowed, then eyed Mum carefully. She looked her up and down, and I suddenly realized that she was looking for signs of pregnancy. I squirmed guiltily.

"Mum?" Ginny said worriedly.

Molly snapped to attention. "Sorry, love -- just seeing if you're putting on any weight."

Ginny frowned. "Definitely not. And you've never cared about that sort of thing!"

"You're quite right, dear. Just making sure you don't need new robes!"

"No," Ginny said suspiciously, and turned away from her mother to get her trunk.

Molly came to Harry next. "Oh, Harry dear, I'm so glad you'll be spending the holiday with us. Remus and Nymphadora will be with us for Christmas afternoon, too -- that should be lovely, don't you think?"

"Sure," said Harry uncertainly. I would've bet money that he was wishing Sirius could have been there.

"Be a dear and help Ginny with her trunks, would you?" He did, and Molly finally turned to me. "Hello, Susan. Hogwarts like you remember it?"

I glanced around nervously, but everyone was engaged in fighting with their luggage. "For the most part."

"When should I be expecting my little girl to be . . . expecting?"

"Not for a while," I said quietly. "And Grandma, you have to be . . . careful. You never who could be listening."

She smiled. "You worry too much. Things will happen as they happen, am I correct?"

I thought for a moment. "I suppose that's correct. But I don't like thinking of it that way."

Now Molly peered at me thoughtfully. "Hmm. Probably that's for the best . . . unless --"

But Ron interrupted her. "I'm knackered, Mum, can't we go on home?"

"Of course we can, dear," she said. "Have you said good-bye to Hermione?" Ron blushed and mumbled something; Molly merely said, "Good, and when are we to expect her at the Burrow?"

"Boxing Day," he muttered.

"Wonderful. Let's get your things to the nearest Floo. Ron, dear, you and Harry will Apparate?"

"Right," he said, and was gone the next moment. Harry saw him blink out and followed close behind. Meanwhile, Mum, Molly and I took our things and walked to the nearest bank of Floo ports, then went back to the Burrow.

The next few days were fairly idyllic. The Weasley children filed in one by one, excepting Percy, who had never found it in his heart to forgive his family for siding with Dumbledore over the Ministry. We spent long, lazy afternoons sampling Molly's baked goods, reading old books, playing with Fred and George's latest inventions, and swapping Hogwarts stories.

I listened and laughed, but had to refrain from thinking of this as the last time that this family would convene without the sorrow they'd soon be facing. It only made my mood foul and hinted to the others that something was not right.

Lying in bed on Christmas Eve, completely unable to sleep, I wished for the thousandth time that there was something I could do about the events that would transpire the next day. But things would happen the way Mum and Aunt Mi-Mi remembered them, no matter what I did. The two of them had drilled it into me a hundred times: no matter what I did, no matter what I said, it would only further serve the future that they remembered occurring. I had no power to change anything that they had told me would happen.

And yet . . . .

It was a sleepless night.

In the morning, everyone got up early to start Christmas Day off right. The Weasleys didn't have enough money to have piles of presents under the tree, but everyone had gotten everyone else one thing, and with the number of people there, it made for a festive Christmas morning. Every Weasley child received the matter-of-course Weasley sweater, as did I, which delighted me. Mine was forest green with a navy cursive "S" embroidered on the lefthand breast.

I managed to sneak a peek at what Mum and Dad had gotten each other; Harry (who, I knew, had plenty of money to spare, which in fact was legally mine in my time) had purchased a small toy unicorn for Ginny, a little white figure that pawed the ground and threw its head around, making its tiny horn glint in the lamplight. Ginny obviously adored it, and let it pace the length of her hand while she kissed Harry for his thoughtfulness.

She'd gotten him a wizarding photograph, which I thought was rather banal, until I saw that it was actually a changing photograph; it would display one image until it was shaken vigorously, at which point it would dissolve into another picture. I saw Harry shaking it several times, a small smile playing at his lips. In the end, he placed it reverently in his notecase and kissed her in thanks.

As for me, I'd gotten some rather generic wizarding gifts, like an Exploding Snap set, which didn't bother me in the slightest; most of the Weasley clan didn't know me at all. Ron and Hermione had gone in together for a book on Divination; Harry had bought me a little talisman that you wore around the wrist to ward off evil; Ginny got me a gold necklace with a tiny crystal ball as the pendant. The sight of the last gift startled me; I had seen my mother wearing it often while I was growing up. Was I supposed to give it back to her at some point?

All of us had a late breakfast together, feasting on breakfast meat, pancakes, and pumpkin juice. As the day wore on, I became more and more agitated, and glanced at my watch. The time was drawing nearer.

Mum and Aunt Mi-Mi hadn't let me in on many details. I didn't know if it was because it was too much for them to discuss, or because they didn't want me to seem suspicious in the midst of it, but I only had the vaguest idea of what would occur. But I did know what time it would begin.

Finally at a quarter to two, I couldn't stand it. I didn't care about the past or future, I only cared about the now. I shrieked, "They're coming!!"

The whole house fell still. After a moment, Harry got up and ran over to me, crouching by my seated form. "What is it, Susan?" he asked in a low, urgent voice.

I looked him straight in the eye. "Harry. They're coming. They're coming here."

"Voldemort?"

"No, his minions. They're coming. They're coming NOW."

He stared at me for another moment. Then he grabbed his wand out of his waistband. "Seal the house off," he said. "Colloportus, or something stronger, if you know it."

"Hold on a moment, mate," Charlie said. "This girl just says that they're coming and you --"

"I don't have time for this," Harry said, his tone clipped and rather cold. "Ginny, Ron, Hermione?"

They nodded briskly and ran off to secure the house. Harry looked into my face again. "Susan? How much time do we have?"

"Fifteen minutes, maybe," I choked out. Was this how it was supposed to go? It must have been. Oh sweet merciful Merlin, I didn't want to be there for what was coming -- !

Now Bill spoke up. "Harry, what on earth is going on?"

"Susan has proven herself to be correct on a number of occasions," he replied cryptically. "I don't want to take any chances."

Molly had risen and turned white. "Susan?"

I looked at her and nodded, my face a mask of misery.

She pursed her lips. "I'll re-strengthen the windows," she said, and scurried off to do just that.

Fred and George stood. "Well, George, if this little bird says we're going to have all the lovely chaps formerly of Azkaban over here --"

"-- prob'ly they've nowhere to go for Christmas Day, Fred, isn't it a shame? --"

"-- then we've got to make sure they're as welcome here as any family member, no?"

"Certainly, Fred. I'm sure you're thinking what I'm thinking."

"Righto, George," said Fred, and the two Disapparated, then reappeared a moment later, their arms full of inventions from their bedroom. "Ammunition," said Fred briefly, and began boobytrapping the house.

"Don't touch anything," warned George.

Arthur, meanwhile, was staring at me. "Young lady, I imagine we'll discuss this later. But for the time being, I'll check the Apparition wards."

I merely sat on the floor, my arms wrapped around my legs, and rocked back and forth miserably. I knew what would happen. I knew.

Through my haze of guilt and regret, I dimly heard Bill and Fleur arguing quietly.

"I want you out of here, Fleur."

"Not a shance. Not while you and your family are een danger. I will stay and fight."

"Please be reasonable."

"Non. You are ze one who eez being unreasonable. I am a fighter, Bill: you knew zis when you married me."

Bill's voice sounded desperate now. "Fleur, please, if not for me, then for the child."

I tried to block out their voices. There was nothing I could do, I knew. Edouard's birthday was in November, still eleven months away -- the baby Fleur was carrying was not her firstborn. Things would happen as I'd been told they would, but I wanted so badly to avert them.

Fleur was oblivious to my inner struggle, and sounded unperturbed by the possibility of danger. "Non, Bill, just stay with me no matter what, and I will be fine."

Just then, a terrible whistling noise came from outside. I finally stood and looked out the window; it looked like a tornado was blowing down the street, which was quite impossible.

All the Weasleys rushed to the windows. "Bloody hell," breathed Ron, and no one smacked him or told him to watch his language.

The tornado blew right up to the front door as we all stood frozen in horror, our wands at the ready. It rattled all the windows and the door as well, but everything held.

Then, all of a sudden, the door blew in, and the tornado became not a whirlwind but three Death Eaters in the middle of the living room: Bellatrix Lestrange, Antonin Dolohov, and Fenrir Greyback.

For a moment there was utter stillness. Later I would think it was because the Weasleys were so inherently good-natured that they couldn't bring themselves to strike first. At the time, though, I was merely stunned by the foes' appearance, and imagined the others felt the same.

"We're here for the widdle baby Potter," Bellatrix drawled. "Can he come out to pway?"

At that, all hell broke loose. The room was cramped with people, and the curses flew like tiny fireworks, bouncing off all the surfaces. The Death Eaters had, of course, chosen the exact right time to strike: the Weasleys and Harry were being exceedingly careful not to hit their own, while the Death Eaters struck with impunity.

After a minute or so, Dolohov's loud, harsh voice clanged out: "HALT! Stop, or I'll kill him."

Everyone stopped to see what he meant. In the crook of Dolohov's arm was Charlie's neck.

I was weeping already. Dolohov held Charlie at wandpoint, and green light crackled at its tip. "Give me Potter and I'll let him go." Charlie's face, illuminated by the eldritch glow, was strangely serene. He struggled against Dolohov's arm, but it looked as though he knew it was no good.

Harry made to step forward, but Arthur took him firmly by the arm. "We do not make deals with the evil and insane," the patriarch said steadily.

"Suit yourself," Dolohov said, and a moment later, Charlie slumped to the ground, dead.

Molly screamed, and it was neverending. I seized the lull to shoot a Full Body-Bind in Greyback's direction; he hit the ground like a statue.

Bellatrix, though, wasn't through negotiating, and she addressed Arthur. "Well, blood traitor, we could spend all day killing off your widdle sons, but it's so much more entertaining for us if we mix it up a bit." Then she leveled her wand at Fleur, who was standing resolutely in front of Ginny, and said, "Abortio," as clear as a bell.

Fleur crumpled. Her knees hit the ground heavily, and her periwinkle gown began to become soaked with blood. "Non," she whispered. "You monster, you horrible abomination, non, non, non."

Bill roared, and the sound was inhuman. He knelt down beside his wife and cradled her as she wept.

"Now are we feeling more prepared to make a deal?" Bellatrix cooed, holding us each at wandpoint in turn. "If you'll just --"

"AVADA KEDAVRA," came a terrible voice from behind her, and Bellatrix's expression briefly registered surprise before she fell to the ground, dead. Dolohov whirled around to see the speaker, but Harry was ready for that; he yelled "INCARCEROUS!" and Dolohov was swiftly bound up by a huge coil of metallic-looking cable.

Tonks strode in, her expression utterly unreadable, and kicked Bellatrix's body. "Farewell, Auntie," she said. Then she looked up at Fleur. "Bill, please take your wife to St. Mungo's now. Use the Floo; don't Apparate." When they merely looked at her, she stared at them stonily. "Go NOW."

They obeyed, Fleur limping to the fireplace, clutching her abdomen, Bill supporting her with both arms.

The Auror saw Greyback lying rigid on the floor and Stunned him without pausing. Then Tonks turned to Dolohov. "You're lucky Harry incapacitated you before I had the chance to kill you," she said flatly. "Scrimgeour's been very generous with new powers for Aurors. Well, in any case, someone will be along soon to collect you two and pack you off to Azkaban." Then she Stunned him and turned to survey the room.

Upon seeing Charlie's body, she looked only sad, not surprised. "I thought I detected a Killing Curse in here," she said bitterly. Then she knelt by Charlie's body and closed his eyes. "Make your way in peace," she said to the still body.

It was this that finally roused Molly from her torpor. She half-ran, half-fell across the room to embrace Charlie's corpse. "My baby!" she sobbed. "My baby, my baby, come back, come BACK."

No one said a word, but Arthur stumbled after her to embrace her and his dead son. Tonks surveyed the rest of us. Ginny was clutching Harry, who stood as still and white as marble. Fred and George were standing so close it was difficult to tell where one ended and the other began. Ron had dug his fingers into his palms, which had begun to trickle a bit of blood. I was standing straight, my face a mess of wetness.

"Come on, you lot," Tonks said. "Let's go into the kitchen. Remus has gone for the Order. They'll be here soon."