Good morning, evening, night, or afternoon to you all!
Disclaimer: I own Eric, Levina, Uncle Nicholas, and Destiny. So…yeah…
"Eric?"
Levina struggled to raise herself off of the ground, and her voice came out in shallow breaths. She shakily got to her feet and collapsed sideways again, winded.
"All right?" Eric's voice mumbled back. Levina lifted her head in his direction, but all she could see was a dark figure lying crumpled on the ground, breathing steadily.
"Yeah, fine—" Levina felt the opposite of fine; her shoulder ached horribly—she was pretty sure the skin was torn—and she had a bloody lip. "You?"
"Been…better," Eric croaked, and the dark figure rolled over onto its hands and knees.
Levina heard screams. Through the dark, Levina saw Mrs. Weasley and Ginny running down the steps by the back door, their expressions frightened.
"Harry? You are the real Harry?" Mrs. Weasley's voice was panicked.
"No—Levina—" Levina wheezed.
"What happened? Where are the others?" cried Mrs. Weasley.
"Wait—are we the first ones back?" panted Eric, who'd forced himself to his feet.
The answer was clearly etched in Mrs. Weasley's pale face.
"The Death Eaters were waiting for us," Eric told her, "We were surrounded the moment we took off—they knew it was tonight—three of them went after us, but I'm not sure about the others, and then that Russell woman caught up—" He broke off, his voice malicious, and Levina couldn't help but feel guilty; had he not gone to save her arse, he could have fought her longer…But then again, would he have been killed?
"Levina got hit with a stray jinx, and she fell," Eric continued. "I was able to slow her down some, and we just crashed here."
"Thank goodness you're all right," she said, helping her to her feet and pulling her into a tight hug. Levina uttered a whimper of pain and she let go immediately, frightened. "Or are you all right—good heavens! Is that blood?" Mrs. Weasley had drawn her hand back from Levina's shoulders, and with it, a palm full of red liquid.
"Yeah—curse scraped my shoulder," said Levina with a grimace, "but I'm not—"
"No, no! Say no more—I'm going to—to get something for that—"
She hurried into the house and vanished, although she could have easily summoned whatever she needed—Levina had a feeling she just wanted to get away. She turned to Ginny.
"What's up? Where is everyone?"
"Ron and Tonks should have been back first, but they missed their Portkey, it came back without them," she said, pointing at a rusty oil can lying on the ground nearby. "You two were second. And that one," she pointed at an ancient sneaker, "should have been Dad and Fred's, they were supposed to be third. Harry and Hagrid were fourth and," she checked her watch, "if they made it, George and Lupin aught to be back in about a minute."
Suddenly, there was an enormous crash, and Ginny screamed. Hagrid's vehicle had smashed violently into the ground, along with the two passengers inside.
"Harry!" Levina cried, moving towards them.
"No, no, get inside!" Mrs. Weasley ordered, taking Levina roughly by her good shoulder. "There's some water and a wash cloth in the living room—go!"
Levina hesitated. She wanted to go to Harry, to see if he was all right, but there was absolutely no arguing with Mrs. Weasley. She and Eric went inside the house, limping and coughing as they went. When she reached the sofa, she found a bowl of fresh water on the table, with a couple of small hand towels. She picked one up gratefully and Eric began dabbing at her shoulder, earning a wince each time it made contact with her skin.
"Pretty deep," Eric commented as he wiped the washcloth over her wound.
"What about you?" said Levina, biting her lip so hard at the pain that it began to bleed again. "Anything that needs to be treated?"
"Maybe—maybe my leg," Eric grunted, putting the wet towel down so he could lift up his pant leg. And indeed, there was a deep gash going down his right leg, where a trickle of blood ran.
"You take it," said Levina, pushing the cloth away from her shoulder.
At that moment, Harry and Lupin staggered into the house, supporting George, who was unconscious and whose face was covered in blood.
"George!" Levina sprang to her feet and ran to help them, seizing his arms. Together, she, Harry, and Lupin carried over to the sofa. As the lamplight fell across George's head, Ginny gasped and Levina let out a small cry: One of George's ears was missing. The side of his head and neck were drenched in wet, shockingly scarlet blood.
No sooner had Mrs. Weasley bent over her son that Lupin grabbed Harry by the upper arm and dragged him, none too gently, back into the kitchen, where Hagrid was still attempting to ease his bulk through the back door.
"Oi!" said Hagrid indignantly, "Le' go of him! Le' go of Harry!"
Lupin ignored him.
"What creature sat in the corner the first time that Harry Potter visited my office at Hogwarts?" he said, giving Harry a small shake. "Answer me!"
"A—a grindylow in a tank, wasn't it?"
Lupin released Harry and fell back against a kitchen cupboard.
"Wha' was tha' about?" roared Hagrid.
But Lupin advanced on Levina now, dragging her to her feet harshly. Levina cringed as his hands touched the torn skin on her shoulder.
"How did Levina Snowpetal find out that she was a Werewolf?" he demanded.
Evidently Levina's body had returned back to her own. "I—I—" She spluttered.
"How?" Lupin repeatedly loudly.
"I—you bit me!" Levina answered, wanting nothing more than for Lupin to take his hand off of her shoulder, which was burning. "And you said I couldn't be two types of Werewolves, just the one!"
Lupin released his grip on her and she staggered back.
"I'm sorry, Harry, Levina, but I had to check," said Lupin tersely. "We've been betrayed. Voldemort knew that you were being moved tonight and the only people who could have told him were directly involved in the plan. You might have been an impostor."
"So why aren' you checkin' me?" panted Hagrid, still struggling with the door.
"You're half-giant," said Lupin, looking up at Hagrid. "The Polyjuice Potion is designed for human use only."
"None of the Order would have told Voldemort we were moving tonight," said Harry. The idea was dreadful to him, he could not believe it of any of them. "Voldemort only caught up with me toward the end, he didn't know which one I was in the beginning. If he'd been in on the plan he'd have known from the start I was the one with Hagrid."
"Voldemort caught up with you?" said Lupin sharply. "What happened? How did you escape?"
Harry explained how the Death Eaters pursuing them had seemed to recognize him as the true Harry, how they had abandoned the chase, how they must have summoned Voldemort, who had appeared just before he and Hagrid had reached the sanctuary of Tonks's parents.
"They recognized you? But how? What had you done?"
"I..." Harry tried to remember; the whole journey seemed like a blur of panic and confusion. "I saw Stan Shunpike... You know, the bloke who was the conductor on the Knight Bus? And I tried to Disarm him instead of—well, he doesn't know what he's doing, does he? He must be Imperiused!"
Lupin looked aghast.
"Harry, the time for Disarming is past! These people are trying to capture and kill you! At least Stun if you aren't prepared to kill!"
"We were hundreds of feet up! Stan's not himself, and if I Stunned him and he'd fallen, he'd have died the same as if I'd used Avada Kedavra! Expelliarmus saved me from Voldemort two years ago," Harry added defiantly.
"Yes, Harry," said Lupin with painful restraint, "and a great number of Death Eaters witnessed that happening! Forgive me, but it was a very unusual move then, under the imminent threat of death. Repeating it tonight in front of Death Eaters who either witnessed or heard about the first occasion was close to suicidal!"
"But he was under a curse!" said Levina, coming to Harry's aid.
"So you think I should have killed Stan Shunpike?" said Harry angrily.
"Of course not," said Lupin, "but the Death Eaters—frankly, most people! –would have expected you to attack back! Expelliarmus is a useful spell, Harry, but the Death Eaters seem to think it is your signature move, and I urge you not to let it become so!"
"I won't blast people out of my way just because they're there," said Harry, "That's Voldemort's job."
Lupin's retort was lost: Finally succeeding in squeezing through the door, Hagrid staggered to a chair and sat down; it collapsed beneath him. Ignoring his mingled oaths and apologies, Harry addressed Lupin again.
"Will George be okay?"
All Lupin's frustration with Harry seemed to drain away at the question.
"I think so, although there's no chance of replacing his ear, not when it's been cursed off—"
Levina covered a pathetic whimper that had edged its way into her throat. She gazed down at George, trying to keep her eyes from watering unsuccessfully. She wished it were her in his place—that she could take the pain away from—
There was a scuffling from outside. Lupin dived for the back door; Harry leapt over Hagrid's legs and sprinted into the yard.
Levina peered up at the window, but she couldn't see anything. Moments later, Kingsley, Harry, and Hermione appeared in the doorway. Hermione ran straight to Levina and pulled her into a bone-crushing hug, which she sincerely hoped wasn't going to happen every time someone returned. "Er—Hermione—my shoulder…"
Hermione threw her hands up to her mouth apologetically. "Oh! I'm sorry! I didn't see that there, are you all right?"
"Fine, fine!" said Levina hotly. "I'm not the one you need to be worrying about…"
Mrs. Weasley and Ginny were still tending to George. Mrs. Weasley had staunched his bleeding now, and by the lamplight Levina saw a clean gaping hole where George's ear had been.
"How is he?"
Mrs. Weasley looked around and said, "I can't make it grow back, not when it's been removed by Dark Magic. But it could've been so much worse...He's alive."
"Yeah," said Harry. "Thank God."
"GEORGE!"
Levina had never heard a more heart-breaking cry before. She looked up to see Destiny shoving her way into the kitchen, with Lupin shouting behind her, "Hey! I wasn't done asking you—"
Destiny threw herself down beside George, her expression pathetic. Against Mrs. Weasley's protests, she sobbed into his arm, kissing his forehead every other second. Levina could never remember a time in her life when she'd seen someone so terrified and dismal as Destiny looked. Perhaps it was the Siren in her—they were very good when it came to looking distressed—or perhaps it was just that she didn't see Destiny often upset over things, as she was usually cheerful.
"I'll prove who I am, Kingsley, after I've seen my son, now back off if you know what's good for you!"
Mr. Weasley burst into the living room, his bald patch gleaming with sweat, his spectacles askew, Fred right behind him, both pale but uninjured.
"Fred!" Levina jumped to her feet. Fred turned to look at her, his anxious expression dissolving into relief as he saw her, and ran to his brother's side.
"Arthur!" sobbed Mrs. Weasley. "Oh thank goodness!"
"How is he?"
Mr. Weasley dropped to his knees beside George. For the first time since Levina had known him, Fred seemed to be lost for words. He gaped over the back of the sofa at his twin's wound as if he could not believe what he was seeing. Destiny respectfully moved aside so that his brother could move in.
Perhaps roused by the sound of Fred and their father's arrival, George stirred.
"How do you feel, Georgie?" whispered Mrs. Weasley.
George's fingers groped for the side of his head.
"Saintlike," he murmured.
"What's wrong with him?" croaked Fred, looking terrified. "Is his mind affected?"
"Saintlike," repeated George, opening his eyes and looking up at his brother. "You see...I'm holy. Holey, Fred, geddit?"
Mrs. Weasley sobbed harder than ever. Color flooded Fred's pale face.
"Pathetic," he told George. "Pathetic! With the whole wide world of ear-related humor before you, you go for holey?"
"Ah well," said George, grinning at his tear-soaked mother. "You'll be able to tell us apart now, anyway, Mum. Hello, beautiful," he added to Destiny, who promptly began to bawl even more. "Sorry I can't give you a proper greeting, given my current state."
He looked around.
"Hi, Harry—you are Harry, right?"
"Yeah, I am," said Harry, moving closer to the sofa.
"Well, at least we got you back okay," said George. "Hi, Levina, good to see you safe. Why aren't Ron and Bill huddled round my sickbed?"
"They're not back yet, George," said Mrs. Weasley. George's grin faded.
That's when Fred took Levina by surprise. He grabbed her around her lower back, evidently noticing the blood on her shoulder, and pressed his body tightly up against hers. For the first time since Levina had known him, she felt something wet on the right shoulder of her shirt.
Fred was…crying?
"You're okay," said Fred, who was trembling against Levina. "You're okay."
"And so are you," said Levina, biting back her own tears now welling up. "And George."
"I was so worried," said Fred, resting his face against her, "that you wouldn't—that you—"
"No, don't even think about it," said Levina, laying her chin on his shoulder. "Okay? You and I are okay, and I'm sure Ron is, too." But then why did Levina find herself holding back tears, feeling as though she were mostly reassuring herself of that?
"Is your shoulder all right?"
"It's—it's okay, I guess," said Levina.
Fred moved back from her shoulder and seized her by the front of her shirt, pulling her into a deep kiss. It wasn't exactly pretty—Levina had a bloody lip, and it stung to touch it against his, not to mention that they were both beginning to cry—but it was just what she needed right then. The two remained locked together, taking breaks only to breathe, until they heard the sound of something approaching the area fast, like a whooshing of brooms outside the window. They broke apart, startled.
"I'll go look," said Levina, "you go check on George."
Fred nodded and hurried back toward his twin, while Levina headed outside. The second she was down the front steps, a broom materialized directly above them and streaked toward the ground—
"It's them!" screamed Hermione.
Tonks landed in a long skid that sent earth and pebbles everywhere.
"Remus!" Tonks cried as she staggered off the broom into Lupin's arms. His face was set and white: He seemed unable to speak, Ron tripped dazedly toward Harry and Hermione.
"You're okay," he mumbled, before Hermione flew at him and hugged him tightly.
"I thought—I thought—
"'M all right," said Ron, patting her on the back. "'M fine."
Levina couldn't help but grin in spite of herself, watching Ron and Hermione holding each other. She just wished they would finally do something about it—their feelings for each other—and stop dancing around the truth so much.
Oh, like a certain Gryffindor and Slytherin?
Levina shocked herself with the sudden thought, and for a second she questioned whether it was even her own. But that certain Gryffindor does not feel that way, nor does that Slytherin, she told herself firmly.
"Ron was great," said Tonks warmly, breaking into Levina's inner war with herself as she relinquished her hold on Lupin. "Wonderful. Stunned one of the Death Eaters, straight to the head, and when you're aiming at a moving target from a flying broom—"
"You did?" said Hermione, gazing up at Ron with her arms still around his neck.
"Always the tone of surprise," he said a little grumpily, breaking free. "Are we the last back?"
"No," said Ginny, "we're still waiting for Bill and Fleur and Mad-Eye and Mundungus. I'm going to tell Mum and Dad you're okay, Ron—"
She ran back inside.
"So what kept you? What happened?" Lupin sounded almost angry at Tonks.
"Bellatrix," said Tonks. "She wants me quite as much as she wants Harry, Remus, She tried very hard to kill me. I just wish I'd got her, I owe Bellatrix. But we definitely injured Rodolphus... Then we got to Ron's Auntie Muriel's and we missed our Portkey and she was fussing over us—"
A muscle was jumping in Lupin's jaw. He nodded, but seemed unable to say anything else.
"So what happened to you lot?" Tonks asked, turning to Harry, Hermione, Levina, and Kingsley.
They recounted the stories of their own journeys, but all the time the continued absence of Bill, Fleur, Mad-Eye, and Mundungus seemed to lie upon them like a frost, its icy bite harder and harder to ignore.
"I can't believe you actually saw Voldemort," said Levina, gawking at Harry as she wiped tear stains and blood from her face.
"Yeah," said Harry softly, but his bottle green eyes were locked on the area where everyone was supposed to be returning. She followed his gaze silently, swallowing a lump of fear in her throat.
"I'm going to have to get back to Downing Street, I should have been there an hour ago," said Kingsley finally, after a last sweeping gaze at the sky. "Let me know when they're back."
Lupin nodded. With a wave to the others, Kingsley walked away into the darkness toward the gate. Harry thought he heard the faintest pop as Kingsley Disapparated just beyond the Burrow's boundaries.
Mr. And Mrs. Weasley came racing down the back steps, Ginny behind them. Both parents hugged Ron before turning to Lupin and Tonks.
"Thank you," said Mrs. Weasley, "for our sons."
"Don't be silly, Molly," said Tonks at once.
"How's George?" asked Lupin.
"What's wrong with him?" piped up Ron.
"He's lost—"
But the end of Mrs. Weasley's sentence was drowned in a general outcry. A thestral had just soared into sight and landed a few feet from them. Bill and Fleur slid from its back, windswept but unhurt.
"Bill! Thank God, thank God—"
Mrs. Weasley ran forward, but the hug Bill bestowed upon her was perfunctory. Looking directly at his father, he said, "Mad-Eye's dead."
Nobody spoke, nobody moved. Levina felt as though something inside of her had broken off, as though she were falling downwards. She staggered slightly and Harry caught her by the arm.
"We saw it," said Bill; Fleur nodded, tear tracks glittering on her cheeks in the light from the kitchen window. "It happened just after we broke out of the circle: Mad-Eye and Dung were close by us, they were heading north too. Voldemort—he can fly—went straight for them. Dung panicked, I heard him cry out, Mad-Eye tried to stop him, but he Disapparated. Voldemort's curse hit Mad-Eye full in the face, he fell backward off his broom and—there was nothing we could do, nothing, we had half a dozen of them on our own tail—"
Bill's voice broke.
"Of course you couldn't have done anything," said Lupin.
They all stood looking at each other. Levina refused to believe it. Not Mad-eye—he couldn't be dead, it just wasn't possible.
At last it seemed to dawn on everyone, though nobody said it, that there was no point of waiting in the yard anymore, and in silence they followed Mr. And Mrs. Weasley back into the Burrow, and into the living room, where Fred and George were laughing together. Destiny was sitting on the arm of the sofa, tending to George's wound, but smiling now nonetheless. Eric was standing in the corner with Uncle Nick, exchanging words silently under their breath.
"What's wrong?" said Fred, scanning their faces as they entered, "What's happened? Who's—?"
"Mad-Eye," said Mr. Weasley, "Dead."
Destiny gave a small gasp. The twins' grins turned to grimaces of shock. Eric jerked his head upright from his conversation, his eyes wide. Uncle Nicholas shook his head, his expression mournful. Nobody seemed to know what to do. Tonks was crying silently into a handkerchief: She had been close to Mad-Eye at the Ministry of Magic. Hagrid, who had sat down on the floor in the corner where he had most space, was dabbing at his eyes with his tablecloth-sized handkerchief.
Bill walked over to the sideboard and pulled out a bottle of fire-whisky and some glasses.
"Here," he said, and with a wave of his wand, he sent twelve full glasses soaring through the room to each of them, holding the thirteenth aloft. "Mad-Eye."
"Mad-Eye," they all said, and drank.
"Mad-Eye," echoed Hagrid, a little late, with a hiccup.
Levina didn't touch her Fire-whisky. She knew she had her limitations to the drink, and there were some memories attached to it…memories of a certain Christmas party, with a certain blonde Slytherin, and a certain kiss—
"So Mundungus disappeared?" said Lupin, who had drained his own glass in one.
The atmosphere changed at once. Everybody looked tense, watching Lupin, both wanting him to go on, it seemed to Levina, and slightly afraid of what they might hear.
"I know what you're thinking," said Bill, "and I wondered that too, on the way back here, because they seemed to be expecting us, didn't they? But Mundungus can't have betrayed us. They didn't know there would be seven Harrys, that confused them the moment we appeared, and in case you've forgotten, it was Mundungus who suggested that little bit of skullduggery. Why wouldn't he have told them the essential point? I think Dung panicked, it's as simple as that. He didn't want to come in the first place, but Mad-Eye made him, and You-Know-Who went straight for them. It was enough to make anyone panic."
"You-Know-Who acted exactly as Mad-Eye expected him to," sniffed Tonks. "Mad-Eye said he'd expect the real Harry to be with the toughest, most skilled Aurors. He chased Mad-Eye first, and when Mundungus gave them away he switched to Kingsley... "
"Yes, and zat eez all very good," snapped Fleur, "but still eet does not explain 'ow zey know we were moving 'Arry tonight, does eet? Somebody must 'ave been careless. Somebody let slip ze date to an outsider. It is ze only explanation for zem knowing ze date but not ze 'ole plan."
She glared around at them all, tear tracks still etched on her beautiful face, silently daring any of them to contradict her. Nobody did. The only sound to break the silence was that of Hagrid hiccupping from behind his handkerchief.
"No," Harry said aloud, and they all looked at him, surprised. "I mean...if somebody made a mistake," Harry went on, "and let something slip, I know they didn't mean to do it. It's not their fault," he repeated, a little louder than he would usually have spoken. "We've got to trust each other. I trust all of you, I don't think anyone in this room would ever sell me to Voldemort."
More silence followed his words. They were all looking at him; Harry drank more of his firewhisky, and Levina ended up following suit, allowing the hot drink to burn her insides. She couldn't help it—the idea of Mad-eye being dead—the entire situation, in fact—was beginning to be too much for her. She drained her glass.
"Well said, Harry," said Fred unexpectedly.
"Year, 'ear, 'ear," said George, with half a glance at Fred, the corner of whose mouth twitched.
Lupin was wearing an odd expression as he looked at Harry. It was close to pitying.
"You think I'm a fool?" demanded Harry.
"No, I think you're like James," said Lupin, "who would have regarded it as the height of dishonor to mistrust his friends."
Lupin turned away from him, set down his glass upon a side table, and addressed Bill, "There's work to do. I can ask Kingsley whether—"
"No," said Bill at once, "I'll do it, I'll come."
"Where are you going?" said Tonks and Fleur together.
"Mad-Eye's body," said Lupin. "We need to recover it."
"Can't it—?" began Mrs. Weasley with an appealing look at Bill.
"Wait?" said Bill, "Not unless you'd rather the Death Eaters took it?"
Nobody spoke. Lupin and Bill said goodbye and left.
The rest of them now dropped into chairs, all except for Harry, who remained standing. The suddenness and completeness of death was with them like a presence.
"I've got to go too," said Harry.
Fourteen pairs of startled eyes looked at him. Levina stared at him, both confused and surprised. Her brain felt fuzzy. She re-filled her glass of Firewhisky.
"Don't be silly, Harry," said Mrs. Weasley, "What are you talking about?"
"I can't stay here."
He rubbed his forehead.
"You're all in danger while I'm here. I don't want—"
"But don't be so silly!" said Mrs. Weasley. "The whole point of tonight was to get you here safely, and thank goodness it worked. And Fleur's agreed to get married here rather than in France, we've arranged everything so that we can all stay together and look after you—"
"If Voldemort finds out I'm here—"
"But why should he?" asked Mrs. Weasley.
"There are a dozen places you might be now, Harry," said Mr. Weasley. "He's got no way of knowing which safe house you're in."
"It's not me I'm worried for!" said Harry.
"We know that," said Mr. Weasley quietly, "but it would make our efforts tonight seem rather pointless if you left."
"Yeah, shut up, Harry," said Levina drowsily, and a few of the people in the room glanced over at her, eyebrows raised quizzically.
"Yer not goin' anywhere," growled Hagrid. "Blimey, Harry, after all we wen' through ter get you here?"
"Yeah, what about my bleeding ear?" said George, hoisting himself up on his cushions.
"I know that—"
"Mad-Eye wouldn't want—"
"I KNOW!" Harry bellowed.
There was a long and awkward silence in which Levina drained her glass again, feeling a horrible yet soothing stir inside her. She blinked groggily.
"Where's Hedwig, Harry?" she said coaxingly. "We can put her up with Pidwidgeon and give her something to eat."
Harry's expression darkened and he drank the last of his firewhisky without answering.
"Wait till it gets out yeh did it again, Harry," said Hagrid. "Escaped him, fought him off when he was right on top of yeh!"
"It wasn't me," said Harry flatly. "It was my wand. My wand acted of its own accord."
After a few moments, Hermione said gently, "But that's impossible, Harry. You mean that you did magic without meaning to; you reacted instinctively."
"No," said Harry. "The bike was falling, I couldn't have told you where Voldemort was, but my wand spun in my hand and found him and shot a spell at him, and it wasn't even a spell I recognized. I've never made gold flames appear before."
"Often," said Mr. Weasley, "when you're in a pressured situation you can produce magic you never dreamed of. Small children often find, before they're trained—"
"It wasn't like that," said Harry through gritted teeth.
No one said anything.
Muttering about fresh air, Harry set down his glass and left the room. After a few seconds, Ron, Hermione, and Levina exchanged a look, then got to their feet and simultaneously headed for the door he'd exited through.
Levina tottered unsteadily down the steps as they gazed around the yard, looking for where Harry had gone. She wobbled into Ron, knocking him sideways.
"Levina?" Ron steadied her back into a standing position. "You all right?"
"What's it to you?" Levina muttered back, gazing up at him in annoyance.
Ron blinked once, bemused. "One drink too many?"
"No, don't worry…I don't drink," said Levina reassuringly, patting him on the back. Ron rolled his eyes.
"Harry?"
Harry stood shaking in the darkness, clutching the gate into the garden, his heart racing, his scar still tingling. It was several moments before he seemed to realize that Ron, Levina, and Hermione were at his side.
"Harry, come back in the house," Hermione whispered, "You aren't still thinking of leaving?"
"Yeah, you've got to stay, mate," said Ron, thumping Harry on the back.
"Yeah," Levina echoed, swaying slightly, "Voldie might getcha!"
Harry stared at Levina, but he said nothing.
"Are you all right?" Hermione asked, close enough now to look into Harry's face. "You look awful!"
"Well," said Harry shakily, "I probably look better than Ollivander..."
When he had finished telling them what he had seen, Ron looked appalled, but Hermione downright terrified. Levina shook her head, trying to comprehend what she was saying. It was peculiar, but, for some reason—whether it be the lighting or the expression on his face—Harry looked quite amusing.
Levina giggled uncharacteristically and Harry frowned at her.
"How much Firewhiskey did you drink?" he demanded.
"None ya business," Levina retorted, annoyed. "Gosh, you're so nosy, Harry!"
Harry rolled his eyes. "Yeah, you're definitely tipsy."
"But it was supposed to have stopped!" Hermione interrupted as Ron yet again grabbed Levina's arm to keep her from falling. "Your scar—it wasn't supposed to do this anymore! You mustn't let that connection open up again—Dumbledore wanted you to close your mind!"
When he did not reply, she gripped his arm.
"Harry, he's taking over the Ministry and the newspapers and half the Wizarding world! Don't let him inside your head too!"
Harry nodded, wincing slightly as he clapped one hand to his head. He remained silent.
"Well, let's go back inside, then," said Ron, moving beside Harry to guide him into the house. "You're—"
Levina gave a very loud hiccup, then promptly fell sideways in a dead faint.
….
The shock of losing Mad-Eye hung over the house in the days that followed; Levina kept expecting to see him stumping in through the back door like the other Order members, who passed in and out to relay news. Levina felt horrible during the said time, partly due to the firewhiskey that she'd thrown up the morning of the night following Mad-eye's death, the other part due to how much pressure was falling into her shoulders. She had finally remembered what Harry was telling her, about the Horcruxes and such. This only made her more anxious.
"Well, you can't do anything about the" –Ron mouthed the word Horcruxes—"till you're seventeen. You've still got the Trace on you. And we can plan here as well as anywhere, can't we? Or," he dropped his voice to a whisper, "d'you reckon you already know where the You-Know-Whats are?"
"No," Harry admitted.
"We'll just have to dig deeper, then," said Levina.
"I think Hermione's been doing a bit of research," said Ron. "She said she was saving it for when you got here."
They were sitting at the breakfast table; Mr. Weasley, Uncle Nicholas, and Bill had just left for work. Mrs. Weasley had gone upstairs to wake Hermione and Ginny, while Fleur had drifted off to take a bath. Destiny was drinking tea in the kitchen, while Eric was writing a letter in the living room, no doubt to the dragon sanctuary.
"The Trace'll break on the thirty-first," said Harry. "That means I only need to stay here four days. Then I can—"
"Five days," Ron corrected him firmly. "We've got to stay for the wedding. They'll kill us if we miss it."
Levina understood "they" to mean Fleur and Mrs. Weasley.
"It's one extra day," said Ron, when Harry looked mutinous.
"Don't they realize how important—?"
"'Course they don't," said Ron. "They haven't got a clue. And now you mention it, I wanted to talk to you about that."
Ron glanced toward the door into the hall to check that Mrs. Weasley was not returning yet, then leaned in closer to Harry and Levina.
"Mum's been trying to get it out of Hermione, Levina, and me." Levina nodded, recalling how Mrs. Weasley had grilled her the previous day for the truth—but Levina had conveniently brought up that her shoulder needed a new bandage, and was excused from the conversation. "What we're off to do. She'll try you next, so brace yourself. Dad and Lupin've both asked as well, but when we said Dumbledore told you not to tell anyone except us, they dropped it. Not Mum, though. She's determined."
The prediction came true hours later, when Mrs. Weasley stopped Harry in the hallway. Levina snuck upstairs, where she found Destiny, sitting cross-legged in the twins' bedroom, playing with a stack of cards.
"Oh, hello," said Destiny cheerfully, peering up at Levina when she entered.
"Hey," said Levina, undoing the bandage on her shoulder with a wince. She was determined to get her shoulder healed up before they set out on their hunt for Horcruxes, as she did not want to slow them down any because of it.
"So. Going on a trip?"
Levina hesitated, her hand still on the doorway. "Beg pardon?"
"Not that it's any of my business," said Destiny calmly, returning to her card game, "and I won't get in the way, but…I know you're going somewhere. I don't know where or why, but I know."
Levina neither confirmed this nor put the idea down.
"But keep in mind, my dad and Eric might ask you questions."
Surprised, Levina spluttered for a moment, unsure of how to respond. "I—well—yeah."
Destiny nodded and spoke without looking up. "It's probably better if I don't know anything, for both of our safety."
"Yeah," Levina agreed in a soft voice. The thought of Death Eaters attempting to torture information out of Destiny made her stomach hurt.
"Although I'd avoid talking to Mrs. Weasley. She seems to think that with enough pressure, you guys'll crack."
From that moment on, Mrs. Weasley kept Harry, Levina, Destiny, Ron and Hermione so busy with preparations for the wedding that they hardly had any time to think. The kindest explanation of this behavior would have been that Mrs. Weasley wanted to distract them all from thoughts of Mad-Eye and the terrors of their recent journey. After two days of nonstop cutlery cleaning, of color-matching favors, ribbons, and flowers, of de-gnoming the garden and helping Mrs. Weasley cook, Levina started to suspect her of a different motive. All the jobs she handed out seemed to keep her, Harry, Ron, and Hermione away from one another; she had not had a chance to speak to the two of them alone since the first night, when he had told them about Voldemort torturing Ollivander.
And yet, Uncle Nicholas had not interrogated Levina even once. Either he had decided to look the other way, or he honestly did not know anything about their plans. Either way, Levina was fairly relieved by it; she did not want another awkward conversation in which she could not say the truth. Enough lies had been said already.
They were often joined by other Order members for dinner now, because the Burrow had replaced number twelve, Grimmauld Place as the headquarters. Mr. Weasley had explained that after the death of Dumbledore, their Secret-Keeper, each of the people to whom Dumbledore had confided Grimmauld Place's location had become a Secret-Keeper in turn.
"And as there are around twenty of us, that greatly dilutes the power of the Fidelius Charm. Twenty times as many opportunities for the Death Eaters to get the secret out of somebody. We can't expect it to hold much longer."
"But surely Snape will have told the Death Eaters the address by now?" asked Harry.
"Well, Mad-Eye set up a couple of curses against Snape in case he turns up there again. We hope they'll be strong enough both to keep him out and to bind his tongue if he tries to talk about the place, but we can't be sure. It would have been insane to keep using the place as headquarters now that its protection has become so shaky."
The kitchen was so crowded that evening it was difficult to maneuver knives and forks. Levina found herself crammed beside Fred. Their knees touched under the table, and they smiled slightly at each other every now and then, but no other words were exchanged between them in the course of the meal.
"No news about Mad-Eye?" Harry asked Bill.
"Nothing," replied Bill.
They had not been able to hold a funeral for Moody, because Bill and Lupin had failed to recover his body. It had been difficult to know where he might have fallen, given the darkness and the confusion of the battle.
"The Daily Prophet hasn't said a word about him dying or about finding the body," Bill went on. "But that doesn't mean much. It's keeping a lot quiet these days."
"And they still haven't called a hearing about all the underage magic I used escaping the Death Eaters?" Harry called across the table to Mr. Weasley, who shook his head.
"Because they know I had no choice or because they don't want me to tell the world Voldemort attacked me?"
"The latter, I think. Scrimgeour doesn't want to admit that You-Know-Who is as powerful as he is, nor that Azkaban's seen a mass breakout."
"Yeah, why tell the public the truth?" said Harry, clenching his knife so tightly that the faint scars on the back of his right hand stood out, white against his skin: I must not tell lies.
"Is it really that bad of a thing to warn everyone?" said Levina, looking back and forth around the table.
"Isn't anyone at the Ministry prepared to stand up to him?" asked Ron angrily.
"Of course, Ron, but people are terrified," Mr. Weasley replied, "terrified that they will be next to disappear, their children the next to be attacked! There are nasty rumors going around; I for one don't believe the Muggle Studies professor at Hogwarts resigned. She hasn't been seen for weeks now. Meanwhile Scrimgeour remains shut up in his office all day; I just hope he's working on a plan."
There was a pause in which Mrs. Weasley magicked the empty plates onto the work surface and served apple tart.
"We must decide 'ow you two will be disguised, 'Arry, Lah-vina" said Fleur, once everyone had pudding. "For ze wedding," she added, when he looked confused. "Of course, none of our guests are Death Eaters, but we cannot guarantee zat zey will not let something slip after zey 'ave 'ad champagne."
Levina frowned in disappointment. She didn't want to disguise herself for the wedding—she had already picked out a dress to wear, and she'd even found a nice hairdo to try out.
"Yes, good point," said Mrs. Weasley from the top of the table where she sat, spectacles perched on the end of her nose, scanning an immense list of jobs that she had scribbled on a very long piece of parchment.
"Is it all right if I just use an invisibility spell?" Levina requested. When Mrs. Weasley looked critical, she added, "Harry's more wanted than me anyway. I'll make sure to redo it any time it starts to wear off—"
"Oh, all right," said Mrs. Weasley with a sigh. "Now, Ron, have you cleaned out your room yet?"
"Why?" exclaimed Ron, slamming his spoon down and glaring at his mother. "Why does my room have to be cleaned out? Harry and I are fine with it the way it is!"
"We are holding your brother's wedding here in a few days' time, young man—"
"And are they getting married in my bedroom?" asked Ron furiously. "No! So why in the name of Merlin's saggy left—"
"Don't talk to your mother like that," said Mr. Weasley firmly. "And do as you're told."
Ron scowled at both his parents, then picked up his spoon and attacked the last few mouthfuls of his apple tart.
"I can help, some of it's my mess." Harry told Ron, but Mrs. Weasley cut across him.
"No, Harry, dear, I'd much rather you helped Arthur much out the chickens, and Hermione, I'd be ever so grateful if you'd change the sheets for Monsieur and Madame Delacour; you know they're arriving at eleven tomorrow morning. And Levina, would you mind helping me wash some of these dishes? There'll be plenty to clean."
But as it turned out, it didn't take very long to clean them. With magic, Levina was hardly even needed; she just gave her wand a flick and watched as the dishes washed themselves, dried, and returned to the shelves on their own. She had a feeling it was just another one of Mrs. Weasley's sad attempts to keep all of them separated. When Mrs. Weasley left to finish some laundry, Levina slipped upstairs to Ron's bedroom. Harry, Ron, and Hermione were already all in there, but only Hermione was cleaning. She had a pile of books in her arms which she was sorting into two enormous piles.
"Hi, Levina," she said as Levina knelt down to help.
"How come you two are up here?" she asked Hermione and Harry.
"Oh, Ron's mum forgot that she asked Ginny and me to change the sheets yesterday," said Hermione. She threw Numerology and Grammatica onto one pile and The Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts onto the other.
"Mr. Weasley and I already finished with the chickens," said Harry. "What about you?"
"Dishes are all clean," said Levina, throwing The Sirens' Lure into one of the piles.
"We were just talking about Mad-Eye," said Ron. "I reckon he might have survived."
"But Bill saw him hit by the Killing Curse," said Harry.
"Yeah, but Bill was under attack too," said Ron. "How can he be sure what he saw?"
Levina nodded hopefully. "It was so confusing, with all the curses flying everywhere—he might have seen it wrong."
"Even if the Killing Curse missed, Mad-Eye still fell about a thousand feet," said Hermione, now with Quidditch Teams of Britain and Ireland in her hand.
"He could have used a Shield Charm—"
"Fleur said his wand was blasted out of his hand," said Harry.
"Well, all right, if you want him to be dead," said Ron grumpily, punching his pillow into a more comfortable shape.
"She doesn't mean it like that, Ron," said Levina.
"Of course we don't want him to be dead!" said Hermione, looking shocked. "It's dreadful that he's dead! But we're being realistic!"
"The Death Eaters probably tidied up after themselves, that's why no one's found him," said Ron wisely.
"Yeah," said Harry. "Like Barty Crouch, turned into a bone and buried in Hagrid's front garden. They probably transfigured Moody and stuffed him—"
"Don't!" squealed Hermione, and Levina gave a small yelp at Harry's statement. Startled, Harry looked over just in time to see Hermione burst into tears over her copy of Spellman's Syllabary.
"Oh no," said Harry, struggling to get up from the old camp bed. "Hermione, I wasn't trying to upset—"
But with a great creaking of rusty bedsprings, Ron bounded off the bed and got there first. One arm around Hermione, he fished in his jeans pocket and withdrew a revolting-looking handkerchief that he had used to clean out the oven earlier. Hastily pulling out his wand, he pointed it at the rag and said, "Tergeo."
The wand siphoned off most of the grease. Looking rather pleased with himself, Ron handed the slightly smoking handkerchief to Hermione.
"Oh...thanks, Ron...I'm sorry..." She blew her nose and hiccupped. "It's just so awf-ful, isn't it? R-right after Dumbledore...I j-just n-never imagined Mad-Eye dying, somehow, he seemed so tough!"
"Yeah, I know," said Ron, giving her a squeeze. "But you know what he'd say to us if he was here?"
"'C-constant vigilance,'" said Hermione, mopping her eyes, and Levina had to fight the urge to laugh, as she recalled him saying the line so much.
"That's right," said Ron, nodding. "He'd tell us to learn from what happened to him. And what I've learned is not to trust that cowardly little git, Mundungus."
Hermione gave a shaky laugh and leaned forward to pick up two more books. A second later, Ron had snatched his arm back from around her shoulders; she had dropped The Monster of Monsters on his foot. The book had broken free from its restraining belt and snapped viciously at Ron's ankle.
"Agh!" Levina sprang up from the ground away from it, swatting at it with an old newspaper.
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" Hermione cried as Harry wrenched the book from Ron's leg and retied it.
"What are you doing with all those books anyway?" Ron asked, limping back to his bed.
"Just trying to decide which ones to take with us," said Hermione, "When we're looking for the Horcruxes."
"Oh, of course," said Ron, clapping a hand to his forehead. "I forgot we'll be hunting down Voldemort in a mobile library."
"Ha ha," said Hermione, looking down at Spellman's Syllabary. "I wonder...will we need to translate runes? It's possible…I think we'd better take it, to be safe."
"Yeah, that sounds likely," said Levina sarcastically. "Jeez, how many books are you taking? And is that a Werewolf book?" she added, picking one of them up off the stack before shooting her a raised-eyebrow look.
"Well…yes," said Hermione nervously as she dropped the syllabary onto the larger of the two piles and picked up Hogwarts, A History. "I—I just thought, should something go wrong with your, erm, condition—"
Levina tapped her aquamarine necklace with her index finger. "No worries, Hermione. Besides, I've already read every book there is about Werewolves."
"Listen," said Harry.
He had sat up straight. Ron, Levina, and Hermione looked at him with similar mixtures of resignation and defiance.
"I know you said after Dumbledore's funeral that you wanted to come with me," Harry began.
"Here he goes," Ron said to Hermione, rolling his eyes.
"Don't even bother, Harry," said Levina, returning to the book stack.
"We knew he would. You know, I think I will take Hogwarts, A History. Even if we're not going back there, I don't think I'd feel right if I didn't have it with—"
"Listen!" said Harry again.
"No, Harry, you listen," said Hermione. "We're coming with you. That was decided months ago—years, really."
"But—"
"Shut up," Ron advised him.
"—are you sure you've thought this through?" Harry persisted.
"Only every hour of every day," said Levina.
"Let's see," said Hermione, slamming Travels with Trolls onto the discarded pile with a rather fierce look. "I've been packing for days, so we're ready to leave at a moment's notice, which for your information has included doing some pretty difficult magic, not to mention smuggling Mad-Eye's whole stock of Polyjuice Potion right under Ron's mum's nose.
"I've also modified my parents' memories so that they're convinced they're really called Wendell and Monica Wilkins, and that their life's ambition is to move to Australia, which they have now done. That's to make it more difficult for Voldemort to track them down and interrogate them about me—or you, because unfortunately, I've told them quite a bit about you.
"Assuming I survive our hunt for the Horcruxes, I'll find Mum and Dad and lift the enchantment. If I don't—well, I think I've cast a good enough charm to keep them safe and happy. Wendell and Monica Wilkins don't know that they've got a daughter, you see."
Hermione's eyes were swimming with tears again. Levina leaned against her reassuringly and Ron got back off the bed, put his arm around her once more, then frowned at Harry as though reproaching him for lack of tact.
"I—Hermione, I'm sorry—I didn't—"
"Didn't realize that Ron, Levina, and I know perfectly well what might happen if we come with you? Well, we do. Ron, show Harry what you've done."
"Nah, he's just eaten," said Ron.
"Go on, he needs to know!"
"What, what?" said Levina, not yet let in on this idea.
"Oh, all right. Harry, come here."
For the second time Ron withdrew his arm from around Hermione and stumped over to the door.
"C'mon."
"Why?" Harry asked, following Ron out of the room onto the tiny landing. Levina got to her feet and moved behind them.
"Descendo," muttered Ron, pointing his wand at the low ceiling. A hatch opened right over their heads and a ladder slid down to their feet. A horrible, half-sucking, half-moaning sound came out of the square hole, along with an unpleasant smell like open drains.
"That's your ghoul, isn't it?" asked Harry.
"The…what?" Levina demanded. She thought that they were kidding about the ghoul—she'd never actually met the creature, but they said it sometimes disrupted the nightly silence.
"Yeah, it is," said Ron, climbing the ladder. "Come and have a look at him."
Levina followed them up the few short steps into the tiny attic space. Her head and shoulders were in the room before she caught sight of the creature curled up a few feet from him, fast asleep in the gloom with its large mouth wide open.
"Ew," said Levina.
"But it...it looks...do ghouls normally wear pajamas?" said Harry.
"No," said Ron. "Nor have they usually got red hair or that number of pustules."
The creature was human in shape and size, and was wearing what, now that Levina's eyes became used to the darkness, was clearly an old pair of Ron's pajamas. She was also sure that ghouls were generally rather slimy and bald, rather than distinctly hairy and covered in angry purple blisters.
"He's me, see?" said Ron.
"No," said Harry. "I don't."
"You seriously think that looks like you?" said Levina. "Wow, you shouldn't be so hard on yourself, Ron."
"I'll explain it back in my room, the smell's getting to me," said Ron. They climbed back down the ladder, which Ron returned to the ceiling, and rejoined Hermione, who was still sorting books.
"Once we've left, the ghoul's going to come and live down here in my room," said Ron. "I think he's really looking forward to it—well, it's hard to tell, because all he can do is moan and drool—but he nods a lot when you mention it. Anyway, he's going to be me with spattergroit. Good, eh?"
Levina and Harry stared at him.
"It is!" said Ron, clearly frustrated that they had not grasped the brilliance of the plan. "Look, when we four don't turn up at Hogwarts again, everyone's going to think we must be with you, right? Which means the Death Eaters will go straight for our families to see if they've got information on where you are."
"But hopefully it'll look like I've gone away with Mum and Dad; a lot of Muggle-borns are talking about going into hiding at the moment," said Hermione.
"We can't hide my whole family, it'll look too fishy and they can't all leave their jobs," said Ron. "So we're going to put out the story that I'm seriously ill with spattergroit, which is why I can't go back to school. If anyone comes calling to investigate, Mum or Dad can show them the ghoul in my bed, covered in pustules. Spattergroit's really contagious, so they're not going to want to go near him. It won't matter that he can't say anything, either, because apparently you can't once the fungus has spread to your uvula."
"And your mum and dad are in on this plan?" asked Harry.
"Dad is. He helped Fred and George transform the ghoul. Mum...well, you've seen what she's like. She won't accept we're going till we're gone."
"What about me?" said Levina in a hushed voice. "What about my family? Sure, they're not my mum and dad, but—"
"Taken care of," said Ron confidently.
"What? How?" said Levina, confused.
"That's my doing," said Eric, shouldering his way into the room.
Levina couldn't be any more bemused. "Eric? Wha—?"
"Not just Muggle-borns are being targeted. Half-breeds like Werewolves are, too."
"So?"
"So," said Eric, bending low to not hit his head on the ceiling, "Dad, Destiny, and I are taking you out of school, for 'your own safety'. The story is that you are coming back with me to Romania, to help with the dragons for the time being, since you're already fluent in Draconian. We can easily brew up some polyjuice," he added, reaching for a stray hair on Levina's shoulder.
"Absolutely not!" said Levina, slapping his hand away. "I'm not going to put you lot in danger by—"
"Trust me, we were in more danger before," said Eric. "Look, just stick with it, all right?"
Levina sighed. She had to admit it: It would be safer for both of them if they went under this plan, but she couldn't help but have the desire to argue. She clamped her mouth shut. "Fine."
Hey, guys! Sorry for the semi-abrupt ending; I got way too carried away with my typing and didn't realize I had written so much, so I had to divide up a few things. Anyway…
Flower gettin' Lady: Thanks so much! I had fun writing the bit with Destiny and the lighter, even if it was a small scene. Glad you liked it! And trust me, I know…Even I'm struggling with Levina, Draco, and Fred. Gah! It's so hard to balance them. As for Levina's mom? Sort of…it wasn't the same sort of protective charm that Harry's mom used, but she did leave Levina with a "mother's blessing" sort of spell, to keep her safe. As for Eric, I'm glad he's alive, too haha :) And well, one of my other reviewers brought to my attention that since my stories are mainly just edits of the real books, they have the potential to be taken down. Considering we're already on Book 7, I find it unlikely that it should happen, but I'm being careful. Thanks again! (Whew…that was a long reply!)
Love all of you! See you in the next chapter :)