A/N: A big cyber-hug for all the reviewers, alerters, and favoriters for this story and my work. I really appreciate all the feedback and support and reviews!
Oh, and if you enjoy this work, feel free to check out my "A Second Thought" series of one-shots that are part of the sixth year story. I'm gearing up to add more one-shots to the series, I've just got to write them out. If you haven't read them yet, check out Draco Malfoy's, Pansy Parkinson, Neville Longbottom, Luna Lovegood, and Hermione Granger (which serves as a prequel for the series--how Daphne and Hermione met).
Rated T for strong language. I own nothing; thanks to stella8h8chang for all your valuable input and revisions. And please excuse this poorly-written author's note. I got about 2 hours of sleep thanks to the NBA and the Celtics tearing down the Lakers! Need. Coffee. Now.
Chapter 5: A Plan For Potter
"Potter's aware that we're coming for him on Saturday, the twenty-seventh, right? If he's not ready to go—"
"Right," Remus Lupin answered Alastor Moody's question. "He knows that we have to retrieve him ahead of his seventeenth birthday; the Death Eaters won't suspect it and we'll be able to take down any sentries that Voldemort may have posted in the area of Little Whinging—"
"Even more reason for him to be prepared for us to retrieve him." Moody interrupted gruffly.
"Moody, don't worry. He will be," Tonks' voice came from the kitchen. "Look, we've gotta recruit thirteen people over the next week. So, instead of huffing and puffing about Potter's readiness, why don't we focus on that small detail?" She smacked the old Auror's cheeks in a playful manner, and Lupin chuckled as Moody tutted at his former protégée.
"She's right, Alastor," Arthur Weasley piped up. "Six 'Harrys' and seven skilled fliers . . . this isn't going to be a small feat."
"Six Harrys?" Ron whispered to Hermione, Ginny and Daphne. "What in the name of Merlin's left tit is he on about?" Daphne and Ginny shrugged in confusion and Hermione smacked him across the chest.
"Ow!"
"Stop swearing, Ron!"
The four teenagers were pressed up against the corner of the first flight of stairs, shushing each other and cupping their mouths so no one would notice them eavesdropping on the one meeting that the Order hadn't cast an Imperturbable Charm on. They were finally able to glance around the corner enough to actually see the meeting take place.
"We might," Bill began, in a measured voice, "start with Fred and George. Maybe Lee Jordan and Angelina—"
"Fred and George, fine. Those other two, I don't know 'em, and I'm not about to start trusting Order business to outsiders," Moody replied, as crusty as day-old bread.
"I would like to be considered," came Fleur's throaty voice.
"Like hell!"
"Beel, I am a good weetch! I can fight—"
"Fleur, there is absolutely no way in any of the five known dimensions that I'm letting you do this. Not with the risks—"
"Oh, excusé moi, but raise your hand if you were a Triwizard Champion?!" Fleur spoke in a surprisingly direct and defiant voice; she stuck her hand in the air and looked sharply at the other witches and wizards gathered around the table. Even from a slight distance, the teens could see Bill's reddening face and Lupin and Tonks smirking at the couple. Ron and Ginny suppressed their own smirks.
"Mmm-hmrphf! I thought so!" Fleur brought her hand back down and crossed her arms in front of her chest, sitting straight up in a haughty manner.
"If you go, my little blossom," Bill responded, still clearly angry with Fleur's persistence, "you'll be with me the whole time. I'll fly you, because you might be good with the spells, but I'm better in the air. No arguments," Bill said, pointing at Fleur who had just opened her mouth to argue that very point.
"Fred, George and Fleur. We still need three more Potters." Moody stumped around the table. "Actually, two more Potters. I volunteer Dung," Moody growled. "Bastard owes me anyways."
"So, Fred, George, Fleur and Mundungus." Arthur tapped his fingers on the table. "Remus, what about you and Tonks?"
Lupin and Tonks both shook their heads. "We'd be better as fliers," Lupin offered.
"I don't want to toot my own horn," Tonks said, "but I'm a damn fine flier. I'll make sure whoever I take gets back in one piece."
"I hope that goes for you too, my dear," Lupin said, as he took her hand. Tonks' hair, which was already a violent purple, practically exploded into a horribly gaudy fuchsia.
"Damn Metamorphmaging!" Tonks said with an eye roll, and she patted her hair as it changed back to a milder, punky pink.
Arthur chuckled. "Lupin, Tonks, Alastor and myself as fliers—"
"What?" came Molly's loud and incredulous voice.
"Uh-oh!" Ron and Ginny gasped. The four teens looked at each other and winced at the thought of the ensuing row between the elder Weasleys.
"Molly—"
"Arthur?!"
"Love?"
"Don't you 'Love' me, Arthur! We need you here—"
"And the Order needs him on the twenty-seventh." All heads snapped toward Moody. "He has an assignment. He can-not back away from that."
"Molly, they need me to help retrieve Harry. I have to go. I'm a good flier—"
"Can you guarantee that you'll come back in one piece?" Molly asked her husband, her voice steady, but clearly angry and quivering.
"If I don't, I'm pretty sure you'll kill me."
Molly paused, and she let out a small chuckle. The chuckle turned to laughs all around the room . . . except of course, for Moody, who looked as gruff as ever.
After a couple of moments, Arthur spoke up, "Have we heard from Hagrid?"
Moody nodded. "In."
"All right, so me, you, Lupin, Tonks, Hagrid . . . Bill?"
Bill nodded. "Fleur's in, and so am I. And I'm flying you!" Bill turned to Fleur.
Fleur nodded. "Well, of course you are."
Molly sighed. "I suppose I've got no say about this either."
Bill shook his head. "Mum, she's my wife. I have to do this, if she's bound and determined to go. I was going to be up there anyway, but the only person who takes Fleur'll be me."
"Oh, Beel! I do love you!"
Ron, Ginny and Daphne all gagged. Hermione rolled her eyes.
"Well, that makes six fliers." Arthur rubbed his chin. "Alastor, I think Kingsley should be included."
Moody gave a nod. "That's it then. We're still missing two more Harrys."
"Ron?" Hermione whispered. Daphne and Ginny looked at him. Ron had pulled away from the group; he was walking toward the Order meeting with deliberate steps.
"Count me in," Ron said in a sharp voice. It was clear he was going to be stubborn; he stood in front of the group, his arms crossed, his chin poking out and his eyes as cool as steel.
"I DO NOT THINK SO!" Molly stood in front of her son, her hands on her hips, her eyes focused on her youngest son.
With their red hair and exact same, stubborn expressions, there was no denying Ron was his mum's son, despite whatever the twins had tried to claim in the past.
The three teenage girls gasped.
Hermione was the first to move from behind the wall. "Ohhh--"
"Shite," Daphne finished.
"C'mon," Ginny prodded. "Let's go and stand behind the prat."
The girls stood in a small arc behind Ron as he faced off against Molly Weasley.
"If you think I'm going to let my youngest son—"
"I'm seventeen," Ron interrupted. "I'm of age! Harry's my best friend," Ron's voice softened. "I need to help with this, Mum. I need to do this!"
"You're still my baby!" Molly shouted at him. "I can't let you run off to war already. I can't—"
"I'm going, Mum. With or without your permission. It's my decision, not yours." Ron spoke with such finality that both Daphne and Ginny got goosebumps.
Molly stepped forward, reached up and grabbed her son's face. Her voice was calm but filled with trembling emotion. "The greatest fear that I have as a mother is that I will outlive any one of my children. This is what I feel, every single day, every single hour, every single minute that this war goes on." Molly's eyes swept over his face, and she smoothed down the longer fringes of his hair. "I know that I cannot force you to stay here, but I'm begging you, Ron. Stay here! Don't go . . ."
"Mum," Bill stepped forward and put his hand on his shoulder. "I'll be there with Ron. So will Dad. So will Fred and George. We're getting Harry well ahead of his seventeenth birthday, so it's highly unlikely they're going to even know that we're moving him. It's only us in here that know, and Hagrid and Kingsley. No one's saying a word." Bill pulled Molly into a one-arm hug. "Mum, we'll all look out for each other."
Molly let loose a loud sniffle. "I know, I know . . . I just thought—" her breath hitched, "I thought I could put off your official entry into the Order for a few more, I don't know. . . . Days. Months. Years."
"Mum, I'm already in the fight," Ron said gently. "I've been fighting since I was eleven."
Molly shook her head. "I know!" There was a quiet anguish in Molly's whispered exclamation. "I know. I had just hoped . . ." Molly breathed out. "Ron is in, then," she said quietly.
Bill gave her a quick squeeze. "He'll be fine, Mum. We'll all be fine."
"Hey," Ron said, trying to break the tension that had settled around the meeting, "she didn't go into an uproar when you lot volunteered Fred and George for this."
"Oh, you weren't here when they joined the Order. Actually," Bill said with a grimace, "I'm surprised you didn't hear Mum all the way at Hogwarts. She yelled for a good two hours at both of them — each!"
Ron cringed and whistled. "Glad I missed that!"
Bill smirked. "Yeah, and she sent them a week's worth of Howlers too."
"Let it never be said that I don't love my children," Molly interjected, with a stern finger waggling at both Bill and Ron.
"Okay, so Ron is in — and you're sure about this, son?" Arthur asked him.
Ron nodded.
Arthur stood up and held out his hand. Ron took it and shook it with a firm grasp. Arthur reached around and patted him on the back.
"And now we need one more—"
"No you don't."
The group turned around and looked at Hermione Granger, who had spoken up as firmly as Ron had.
Ron gaped at her. "Herm—"
"Don't!" she said warningly. "You're going? I'm going. No. Arguments."
Hermione stood with her arms crossed and glared at Ron.
Surprisingly, Ron backed down.
"Hermione is in," he said, his voice filled with resignation.
Arthur looked at her. "Hermione, are you—"
"I'm absolutely, one-hundred percent sure! Er . . . Mr. Weasley."
Arthur looked at the others, and they all nodded in agreement. "We've got our Harry Potters." He beckoned to Ron and Hermione, and he also gestured to Daphne and Ginny. "All of you should sit down. We're going to go over the plan."
"Arthur!" Molly started, "Ginny shouldn't be here. She's not of age!"
"Mum, this is a plan to retrieve Harry. I've got every right to be here. I'm not bothering you to go, but I want to be a part of this plan all the same." Ginny looked at her mum with the same stubborn defiance that defined the very heart of the Weasley women, and the women that the Weasley men so dearly loved.
Molly sighed and set her lips into a firm line. "Fine. I might not like it, but you are going to be here with me to help me out." She turned her resigned eyes toward the other teenager in the room. "Daphne, you can stay as well."
Ginny sat down in a chair next to Hermione. Daphne stood behind her.
Moody glared at Daphne Greengrass, who quailed under his watchful eyes (or . . . well, his glass eye).
(That thing's inordinately creepy!)
"We're now letting Slytherins into our meetings, are we? We all know how well that worked out last time. Snape—"
Daphne furrowed her brow. She was just about to talk, when—
"Alastor, she stays," Arthur Weasley spoke up. "She's now a part of this family, and she's going to be here when we bring Harry back to the Burrow. She stays."
"Arthur—" Moody began.
"She stays. Alastor," Arthur said sternly. "Dumbledore wanted us to take her in and give her a safe home, and we're doing that. She's one of us, so she shall stay."
Daphne felt a blush spread across her cheeks; she decided the best course of action would be for her to remain quiet and let the adults all hash out whether she would be a part of the meeting or not.
"I theenk Daphne stays," Fleur intoned.
"Hear, hear," Bill said, slapping his hand on the table.
"Moody, I think we should get on with the plan. We might need to do some refinements," Tonks calmly interjected.
"Fine," Moody relented. "The Slytherin girl stays." Never taking his magical eye off of her, Moody walked to the front of the long dining room table.
With his hands resting on the top of his walking stick, and looking out at the members of the Order and the teenagers that had joined the meeting, Moody began his discussion of the plan. "All right, first, you lot need a rudimentary understanding of how and when the protective charm around Potter's house will stop working." Moody shifted his stance a bit. "This particular charm went into effect the moment Lily Potter's blood relative agreed to provide a home for Harry. It was no matter that they mistreated him while he lived on Privet Drive; she allowed him to stay with her family and to call Privet Drive home. This fact, following Lily Potter's sacrificing herself to save Harry, has kept him and his uncle, aunt and cousin under the charm all these seventeen years."
Here, Moody coughed; spittle flew this way and that. "This charm stays in effect until one of two conditions have passed: one," Moody held his index finger up, "he turns seventeen, or two," and he held up a second finger, "he and his uncle, aunt and cousin all leave the house, in concert, with the mental intention to never return. Ever. Again." Moody's glass eye looked at the faces of each person crammed into the Burrow's downstairs area, making sure that he had their attention.
"So, keeping the latter in mind, here's the plan. As soon as Potter's aunt and uncle are moved to their safe location, we will meet up with the boy. The twins, Weasley, Granger, Miss Delacour, and Mundungus will take the Polyjuice Potion to change into Potter, and the seven designated fliers — that would be me, Arthur, Shacklebolt, Lupin, Tonks, Bill, and Hagrid—will take their assigned Potter to designated locations."
Moody stumped around the table and continued to talk. "Now I have several stocks of Polyjuice Potion ready to go; all that's missing'll be a bit of Potter. He'll need to give us his hairs—"
Ron snorted. "Oh, he'll love that."
Hermione nodded. "Harry's not going to go for this. He'll think it's too risky, and he won't want to put any one of us in danger—"
Moody puffed out his cheeks. "Well, he'll just hafta deal with it! We'll force him if we have to!"
Ron and Hermione looked at each other and sniggered.
"I'm serious!" Moody barked. "I know how to use the Imperius Curse, and I'm not afraid to Imperius Potter to give us his hair! No matter if that arsehole Crouch used it on me. Desperate times call for desperate measures!"
"Oh-kay!" Tonks clapped her hands together. "I think it's safe to say that your point is taken. Next item of business?"
"We'll have different modes of transportation—"
"Um, Moody," Bill interrupted, "why not have all of us use brooms? They're the quickest mode of transport—"
"Because we have to work under the assumption that Snape told Voldemort everything about Potter, and his talent with riding a broomstick. Voldemort'll be focused on any Potter that's on a broom. And I say it's very likely he'll be focused on any Auror that'll be traveling by broom." Moody's eye swiveled around the room. "So, to continue . . . we'll be flying to seven separate safe houses, all with connections to Molly and Arthur or the Order itself."
At this, Ron, Ginny and Bill looked at each other.
"When you say connections to Mum and Dad, Moody—"
"D'you mean, connected somewhere near the Burrow?" asked Ron, finishing Bill's thought.
"A family connection?" Ginny added.
Moody nodded . . . and a collective groan emitted from the three Weasley siblings.
"Auntie Muriel!" Bill, Ron and Ginny spoke in unison, desperation evident in their voices.
"Hush!" Molly chastised them. "Be grateful that she has offered us her home for this mission."
"Well, now I'm glad I'm not going," Ginny said. "She'd tell me the entire time that I've got big arms and that she's scared that I'm turning into some roaring lesbian!"
Tonks howled in laughter. "A lesbian? You serious?"
Ginny nodded and rolled her eyes. "Apparently, ladies that choose to be interested in a manly sport like Quidditch can't also be interested in the opposite sex. She's so backward."
"She's from a different generation, Ginny." Molly tried defending her aunt, but her words were lost in a sea of snickering and chit-chat.
"Back . . . to the matters at hand," Moody roared. "Seven safe houses, and each house will have a Portkey to the Burrow. We'll designate specific times for the Portkeys to transport all the parties. We can't have it look like a massive transportation convergence upon the Burrow. Would draw too much suspicion."
There was a beat or two of silence as each individual soaked in the plan.
Tonks was the first to speak up.
"Piece of cake, eh?"
Lupin looked at her. "There are so many, many things that you are, Dora, and Queen of the Understatement is definitely not one of them." She narrowed her eyes and smirked at her new husband, playfully hitting him with her arm.
"Alastor, we need to decide how many brooms we need, and what else are we going to use?" asked Arthur.
"Four brooms. And we need three more flying objects."
"Carpets are unreliable, not to mention illegal," Arthur responded.
"Hmm . . . Hagrid maintains the only herd of domesticated Thestrals in all of England," Lupin spoke up. "Ask him if we can use three Thestrals."
Moody shook his head. "Two Thestrals . . . we need to find a mode of magical transportation for the real Harry that's both powerful and accurate. Can't be a broom—"
"Er," Arthur said sheepishly, "I . . . well, erm . . . I have a possible thingy that we might be able to use."
"Arthur?" Molly asked, her voice filled with suspicion. "What do you mean thingy?"
Arthur winced and flashed his wife a very awkward smile. "Well, I've sort of been meaning to tell you, er . . . Molly . . . you who are the love of my life, my little Mollycobbler . . . Molly-Dolly." The last word came out as little more than a squeak. The Weasley kids that were in the room all looked at each other and made gagging faces and rolled their eyes at their dad.
"What. Do. You. Have . . . oh darling husband of mine," Molly stared at Arthur, her eyes narrowing in a sign that meant danger.
Arthur let out a great big sigh and motioned for everyone to follow him out to his shed.
Once they got out to Arthur's Muggle sanctuary, he stopped them just before he opened the door.
"All right, Molly. Now, before you start yelling at me, just remember that we've been together and married for decades, and I love you more with each and every year—"
"Arthur. Weasley. Open this door. Now!"
Closing his eyes and squishing his face, Arthur opened the shed door and walked into the middle of the workspace. Stopping next to a very large object covered in a gray blanket, he took one more look at his wife, and forced a huge, toothy, nervous smile onto his face.
Molly looked back at him, her nostrils flaring and her arms crossed.
Exhaling and gathering his resolve, Arthur took a handful of blanket and pulled it off the mysterious object.
"Whoa!" Ron exclaimed breathlessly.
"Dad . . . this is amazing," Bill whispered reverently. He touched the chrome hubcap of the motorbike that now stood, uncovered in all of its rugged, Muggle glory.
"Merlin!" Lupin stepped forward, out of Tonks' arms. He looked up and down, all along the bike, a smile of disbelief twitching upon his lips. His hand shook as he reached out to touch the leather seat, and chrome handlebars. He bent down to look at the gears and touched the sidecar. He caught a glimpse of his face in the chrome and he reached out and gently touched his reflection.
Everyone stood silent, enraptured by Lupin's awed reaction to the vehicle.
"Arthur," he asked, his eyes glistening, "h-how?"
"Hagrid had it this entire time," Arthur said with a smile, "just before he left to find the tribes of Giants in Europe, he left this in my care and asked if I could make modifications to it. I-I should have told you, Remus. I'm sorry . . ."
"No," Lupin said breathlessly. "D-don't be sorry, Arthur." Lupin looked at the others, some of whom had confused expressions. "Um, this is S-Sirius' motorbike," he said, smiling sadly. "I would recognize it, well, anywhere. Even after all of these years." Lupin looked down at the bike and his chin trembled. "The last I remember of this was that night . . . Hagrid brought Harry to Privet Drive . . ." Lupin spoke softly, more to himself than anyone else.
Tonks stepped away from the others, and walked over to stand by Lupin. She put a hand and her lips on his shoulder and leaned into his back; Lupin took her hand in his own and gave it a gentle squeeze.
"Well, that's it then," said Moody, but in a tone less gruff than usual. "We'll use the motorbike to pick up Harry."
There were nods of agreement, but no one else spoke up. Lupin and Tonks continued to stand together next to Sirius' motorbike.
Molly gave a small cough. "Why don't we go ahead and get back to the house for a spot of lunch. We all must be famished."
Molly and Arthur walked behind the group, separating them from the newlyweds still standing, wrapped up in each other next to the machine.
As Ginny and Daphne both looked over their shoulders, they happened to see Lupin lean down and kiss the palm of Tonks' hand.
And they watched as Tonks' hair colored to a blazing shade of passionate red.
