The pieces started moving across the board slowly, but they stayed in play. Alastor got absorbed in the Order of the Phoenix. Although hierarchy was rarely discussed or mentioned in the secret society, he was one of the leaders once again. It was different than fifteen or sixteen years ago. And since they had gotten an early start, or rather the earliest start possible, things were better. After Albus Dumbledore's death, Alastor became the undisputed leader.
He retreated back to home whenever he could to grab a moment of peace. As the group gathered at his place, Alastor ran the plan through his mind once more. Lenore had left the bedroom door open because this was their home. She lay in the bath with her blonde hair pinned up. Soft, classical music played from the wireless and she hummed along to the tune as the bath filled with frothy water. Candles lit the place.
"You look comfortable." Alastor rested his gnarled hands on the doorframe. Lenore, though she'd been asked by Dumbledore twice, had refused to join the Order. Alastor had asked her again last week, and she'd said no. This had led to a heated row and they had barely spoke to each other since.
"Come join me." She turned off the tap with her foot. He shook his head and opened his mouth. As he limped over to her the clawed foot scraped the refinished wooden floor. "You can't win me over, Alastor, because I didn't leave the Auror Office to get tossed into the fire. Do not ask me again."
"Fine," he growled, giving up.
"Truce?"
"I guess so."
Lenore smiled, taking the win. "Kiss me."
The Order was gathering. There were thirteen gathered in his sitting room and kitchen now. Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger had arrived with Arthur. Alastor viewed this through his magical glass eye, and he grumbled when Ron helped himself to his, Alastor's cracked Sneakoscope on the bookshelf. Mundungus had come up with this seven Potters idea. A part of Alastor knew he should've given the thief credit for the simplicity of the plan, the brilliance of it, but there were a hundred and one things that could go wrong with this.
Although she was not in the Order, Alastor bounced ideas off of Lenore. Kingsley, his second in command, was a rare confidant, yet Alastor rarely turned his mind off. How could he when they were in the middle of a war? Was he really goinv to rouse Kingsley in the middle of the night? Lenore had told him he wasn't allowed. Although he kept his magical eye on the Order members down the corridor, he watched her. When she stepped out of the bath, he handed her a towel; Lenore dried her hair a little before wrapping it around herself.
"Last night, you said you don't trust Mundungus." Lenore brushed her teeth and watched his grim expression in the fogged up mirror. "I can be your decoy."
"Nope." Alastor rubbed his gnarled hands together. If he moved one piece, it would be changing everything last minute. It was nothing about protecting Lenore because having another ex-Auror on the team made sense. Who did he trust more than Lenore James?
Lenore draped the damp towel over the rack and went in the bedroom to pull on a slip. She was angry with him again.
"Lenore."
"No, no, Mr. Moody, why would you trust me?" Lenore yanked her dressing gown off the hook on the bathroom door. As Nymphadora Tonks walked in the bedroom, Lenore tied the strap around her waist and muttered something about being his little wife.
"Miss James." He lowered his voice, challenging her.
"Ah, you see? There it is again." Lenore sat on the bed and took her pumice stone out of the drawer of her bedside cabinet. She conjured a basin filled with Essence of Murtlap and dipped her hands inside it. A pumice stone eased the pains of her calloused hands; she played the violin and cello quite a lot these days. She nodded at Tonks, who beamed at her. "You're recently married. Tell me, Tonks, how weighty is your ball and chain?"
Alastor scoffed. Lenore herself had played her instrument at Tonks's tavern wedding a couple weeks ago. Jonathan had accompanied her.
Tonks knocked on the doorframe a little late, for she'd forgotten that part. The sides of her mouth twitched, and Alastor knew she baited to get a reaction out of him, but he gave her none.
"I haven't got one those, ma'am," said Tonks. She waited a minute before clearing up any confusion. "I have the husband, yes, but there is no ball and chain. Or maybe ... I dunno."
"It's not ma'am anymore, Tonks, it's Lenore. I've told you this." Lenore lifted her hands and they appeared to be covered by wax gloves. She nodded at the small heated basin. "Would you like to dip your hands?"
"No, ma'am, I ... yeah. All right." Tonks quelled at Lenore's already annoyed look. Grinning at Alastor, she slipped her wedding ring into her pocket and sat next to the woman who used to be her commanding officer. She dipped her hands. "Oh, this is heaven. You do this a lot?"
Lenore peeled off the gloves and rolled the gunk into a little ball before she started with the pumice stone.
"Only when she plays often," said Alastor. "I bought this for her years ago."
Lenore's face softened. "I forgot it was you. Tonks, take your hands down. Point them down."
"This is cool," said Tonks, giggling as the liquid hardened into a waxlike material. "Mad-Eye? You would be the last person I'd expect to be worried over a manicure or a pedicure. You thought of this?"
He grunted. Musicians liked to have nice hands. Lenore wasn't exactly the easiest person to shop for, and he hated shopping, anyway. Tonks peeled off the gloves, too, shocked at the amount of dead skin she'd collected there. Lenore cleaned the pumice stone with a simple spell.
"So, these callouses." Tonks took Lenore's left hand and examined them. "Why not curse them off or something?"
"Because they take years to build up," said Remus. Alastor jumped a little because he hadn't heard him coming. He'd knocked first. He walked in when Lenore waved him inside. When they shook hands, he commented on her soft skin. "A practiced musician uses them as a buffer because you're always going to hit the same spots. Calluses are better than blisters."
"I hear that. You. Nymphadora. Wanna know a dirty little secret?" Lenore, grinning, seemed to notice the curiosity won out over Tonks actually being irked by her first name. Lenore cleaned the basin after it emptied itself. Remus thanked Lenore again for asking the quartet to play at their wedding. They had not been charged because Lenore had written it off as a wedding present. She opened her drawer again and took out a photograph album before she opened it and showed them a shot of the cellist. "Who's that?"
"The big violin bloke," said Tonks slowly, snapping her fingers at Remus. Chuckling, he gave the proper name of cellist and called the fellow Sam Tuerney. Alastor liked that they worked this way. Lenore held this with two fingers and flipped back to a haggard looking wizard in robes. These robes were torn and ripped in places. "Isn't he in the Weird Sisters? You listen to rock music, ma'am?"
"No. And it's Lenore." Lenore keep going back-and-forth. Remus laughed harder because he got it first.
"Merlin's beard, is that ...? May I see that?" Tonks took the album and flipped through the photographs.
Sam appeared to play the same instrument in quite a few shots. There was a tattoo, and it revealed itself he moved his hand in the wizarding snapshot; there was a treble chef on his wrist. In the stationary one, she saw nothing. In the Muggle shot, he wore jeans and a dress shirt.
"That's Merton Graves." Tonks studied Lenore like she waited for the butt to some April Fool's prank. Lenore raised her eyebrows, took sone photographs out of the sleeves, duplicated them with a Germinio Charm, and handed them over as she replaced the originals back in the book. She read the inscription off the back of the Weird Sisters one. "'There are those who are friends and those who gifts, these, no matter what we weather, we shall not turn against.' That's from "Heartstrings." Wait. That's in his own hand. Oh, my goodness! You're Victoria."
"What?" Alastor sounded bored, preoccupied by details with his decoy operation.
"There's a song called 'Heartstrings' that Merton Graves wrote about a girl called Victoria. The line before that is about repeating the some line ..." Tonks slapped a hand to her forehead.
"To be fair, the man who plays the viola is called Derek. Derek Naves." Lenore grinned at her. "Sam isn't doing anything extraordinary. A lot of musicians join more than one band. Sam is simply Sam."
"Sam owes me food," grumbled Alastor, who didn't care one way or the other who this fellow was. He wanted his stocks refilled now that he knew the cellist could afford it.
"Alastor." Lenore shook her finger at him disapprovingly. "Really?"
Remus checked his watch. "We're going to be late. I got an owl from Daedalus about Harry's aunt and uncle. They're safe."
"Good, good." Alastor checked his pockets and went into the kitchen. The others followed him. Waving to the others, he smacked Ron in the back of the head and helped himself to the teacups in the cupboard. Ron, muttering under his breath as he rubbed the knot, asked what that was for. "Were you not touching my Sneakoscope?"
"No." Ron looked guiltily at Hermione and then at his father.
Alastor checked the contents of his coat again. After he thought he had everything, he heaved two identical rucksacks from behind the couch. He knew some of these people better than others. If something happened to him, Kingsley, who had been pulled off his Downing Street detail for a few hours, would step in. If Kingsley fell, which wasn't likely, although anything could happen, Tonks would take the lead. Alastor had brewed the Polyjuice Potion himself. Whilst he wasn't taking any of it himself, he didn't want to risk the others getting poisoned.
"Miss Granger, we told Mr. Potter what to wear, yes?" Alastor paced the sitting room.
"Yes." She sounded nervous. Alastor knew she'd be with Kingsley, so she'd be fine. Hagrid was outside tending to the thestrals and keeping an eye on Sirius's motorbike.
"Good girl. All right. Kingsley." Alastor nodded as Kingsley, calm as ever, repeated the plan back to him verbatim. Alastor jabbed a gnarled finger at Tonks.
Tonks, sandwiched between Bill and Remus said, "What he said."
Fred, George, and few of the others laughed appreciatively. Lenore, not missing a beat, recited the plan on Tonks's behalf. The Weasleys and crew turned towards her, speechless. Why was someone who wasn't in the Order in on the know? Alastor exchanged hurried introductions. Listening to this breakdown, Lenore walked over and reached into Mundungus's coat. She found unopened cigars and a couple cigar boxes.
"Mundungus. You're stealing from me? Have you lost your damn mind?" Alastor switched his magical eye to the bloodshot, gingery-haired thief.
"Well." Mundungus shrugged as Lenore searched him.. "Ain't like you a smoker, Mad-Eye. You're pretty, miss. You 'is wife or summat?"
Lenore put Alastor's things back in their proper places. "Stop whilst you're ahead. I'm out of your league, Mr. Fletcher."
The Weasley twins howled with laughter. Alastor fought a smile as he continued with his preparations. If they lost the Potter boy after all this, he'd be beyond embarrassed. Now was not the time for error. He'd suggested a trial run, but Kingsley had pointed out the logistics of this would be damn near impossible. Everyone here was of age. Hermione and Ron were barely there, but this was their best friend they were talking about.
Alastor checked his watch. They had ten minutes before departure. His place was one of the safe houses. George and Remus would end up here before taking the Portkey to the Burrow. Lenore needed to stay put. The more he thought about it, and Alastor had analyzed this to death, it would look odd if Lenore joined them. The Ministry knew Alastor shared a house with her.
"It's in the guest bedroom, Remus," said Alastor, turning to face the group. He did not reveal what the Porrkey was in case anything got leaked. Remus nodded. The Portkeys were bound to the Burrow. "If we get caught with an unauthorized Portkey, folks, that's on me. Not you lot."
Lenore turned. "Alastor."
Tonks fidgeted but nodded at the floor.
"That boy is what's important." Alastor rubbed his hands together as he let this sink in for the others. He reached in his pocket and tossed Kingsley two vials. "If we catch any informants. Veritaserum. Kingsley caught them and pocketed the potions. "This'll sound odd coming from me, folks, but you keep the real enemy in mind. You are not alone."
"Isn't it obvious the enemy's You-Know-Who?" asked Ron.
"Yes and no." Lenore went in the kitchen and came back with a sheathed dagger. Alastor shook his head, saying he didn't want it, so she offered it to Kingsley and Tonks in turn. Remus Lupin took it and slid it inside his robes. "You throw straight."
Remus nodded.
"If a Harry gets captured, you say nothing. Nothing at all." Alastor thought of this last minute. They, the Order, would need to get their story straight, and that Harry's protector would likely be dead.
"Yeah, but that's not like Harry, Mad-Eye," said Ron.
"It isn't," said Hermione as they traipsed outside.
Hagrid, already straddled on the motorbike. Ron shared a broom with George. They would divide into teams later. The Ministry of Magic would notice a group Apparating onto Privet Drive. Kingsley, grinning, helped Hermione onto a threstral. He'd told Alastor to listen to the kids because they were Potter's best mates.
"Miss Granger." Alastor checked his watch. They were cutting it close. Lenore helped Fluer Delacour onto a threstral as Bill watched over his brothers and made sure they were good to go.
"No, and he's not going to let us take Polyjuice Potion," said Hermione, offering Kingsley a hand. Kingsley shifted his position on the skeletal horse and told her not to worry about the journey. Bill joined his fiancée. "He's the hero."
"She's right," said Ron and Remus together.
Alastor paced back and forth and stared at the night sky. Three minutes to go. He couldn't exactly craft a new plan. The boy was stubborn. If Alastor had to restrain the boy for his own good, he had no qualms about it. When everyone else was ready, he grabbed his broom. He was riding with Fred or George. Before he mounted the broom properly, he strapped the rucksacks onto it and Lenore grabbed him and locked him in a kiss. Fred, George, Ron, and Mundungus sniggered. When they broke apart, he patted her hair and kissed her good night.
Alastor fed her the usual line. "Don't wait up for me, Lenore."
"I won't," she lied.
Alastor patted her on the cheek and mounted the broom. Remus always worked as the countdown. As he kicked off the ground, knocking a giggling Fred in the back of the head, he saluted Lenore and followed Kingsley's thestral into the night.