March/April 1998
Bill was so close. He felt he had it.
After months and months of tireless research, of boring everyone he knew with the details, of frustrations and breakthroughs, he finally felt sure that he'd worked out the Fidelius Charm the same as Dumbledore had with Grimmauld Place. His notes had come together, he understood the execution, he was sure he could perform it. He was sure he could teach others as well.
He just needed to test it.
"If the cottage disappears," he told Fleur as the pair stood in the front garden outside of their home on a blustery evening, the sea air whipping through their hair, "and I can see it, but you no longer can, that means it worked. It means I've hidden the house and I'm the Secret Keeper."
"And what if neizer of us can see it?" Fleur asked, pulling her hair back and out of her face. "If you make it disappear entirely?"
"Then I fucked up," he said plainly, turning to look back at his house. "But that's not going to happen."
He heard her sigh nervously. He had to admit, the idea of doing this wrong and their house and all of their possessions disappearing into…well, he wasn't sure where they would go, but it was all very nerve-wracking. He had to concentrate and do this perfectly. The magic was some of the most complex spellwork he'd ever had to perform. One slip up, one error, and the consequences could be detrimental.
But no pressure.
He raised his wand and focused his eyes on the front door. He'd told Fleur earlier that he would need her to stand back and remain perfectly silent. He needed his mind free of distractions and to concentrate entirely on the sequence of events that would allow the spell to function properly.
He took a slow, deep breath, closed his eyes, and gripped his wand tightly. He was ready.
He opened his eyes. "O—"
A sudden, nearby popping sound broke the silence. It was followed by a startled sounding, "Oh!" from Fleur that entirely broke his concentration. When he looked over at her, she seemed confused as to whether or not she should still be silent, or whether she should be addressing the form of Remus Lupin who had appeared tens of yards away.
So much for being free of distractions.
"Your timing is shit, Lupin," Bill called over, frustrated. He'd been so close.
Remus, it seems, didn't detect the terse nature of his tone. He had continued to walk straight over to where the pair of them stood like a man on a mission. His expression was so blank and vacant looking that Bill began to question whether or not it even was Remus. There was a light missing in his eyes.
He turned his wand on him. "Mate, I'm going to need you to hold on."
That, Remus heard. He stopped in his tracks. It was as if he'd been snapped out of a daze.
"Of course," he said. "I apologize. It is I, Remus Lupin. Ask me what you need."
It was Fleur who did the security questioning, though as usual, Remus passed. Bill waved him over as soon as that was settled, noticing that his expression was back to dark and unsettled. If he didn't know any better, he'd come bearing bad news.
"What's the matter?" he asked once Remus was within a comfortable distance. "What's happened now?
Remus looked out toward the sea, clearly bothered. "Ted—Dora's father…." He looked back at him. "He's dead."
Fleur gasped and allowed a sorrowful, "Noooo," to escape her. Bill said nothing at first, but did feel an uncomfortable tightness overcome his entire body. He finally closed his eyes and muttered, "Fuck."
"'Ow do you know?" Fleur asked. "'Ow did you discover zis?"
Remus didn't look at either of them; he was letting his fingers massage into his forehead rather forcefully. "My usual sweep of sources. The one I do everyday for Potterwatch. I'm looking into more details, but it was Snatchers who got him."
He looked at Bill very purposefully. "Led by Greyback."
"Our best mate," he muttered, thinking of the werewolf who not only maimed his face, but also was the reason Remus was a werewolf in the first place. Now he'd had a hand in killing Tonks' father. That monster must be stopped.
"We just heard this morning," Remus continued. "I don't know how he died exactly, nor when it happened, though I suspect it was in the last two days. I'm looking into it, but it's been difficult."
His frown somehow managed to grow more pronounced. "Dora and Andromeda are beside themselves."
Bill exhaled slowly; Fleur looked truly upset. She released a defeated breath and said, "Of course. I feel awful."
Remus nodded. "And with Dora so pregnant, I worry about the stress of the grief on her and the baby."
"And she's due soon," Bill mumbled.
Remus nodded slowly. "This sort of thing could send her into early labor, I'm told."
"What can we do?" Fleur asked. "Can I 'elp wiz anyzing? Can I send you wiz meals? I 'ave many already prepared for us and I can duplicate zem."
"Yeah, please let us send you some meals," Bill added, thinking about Fleur's rather impeccable meal planning that was already prepared and stored in their kitchen. They'd gone for one large shop months ago and ever since, Fleur had turned that shop into many meals without a second trip. She had a knack for knowing when to magically duplicate ingredients based on their freshness; stretching everything to last.
They could easily hide away forever and never starve given the way Fleur meal prepped.
"That would be nice," Remus said with a weak smile. "One less thing to think about."
Fleur nodded and began leading the way toward the house, everyone else in tow. As they walked, Remus added, "And I'm sure Dora would appreciate the company if you could safely find the time to visit."
"Do you think the Death Eaters who post up outside your house might decide to leave now that Ted's gone?" Bill asked, holding the front door for Remus to pass.
"I can hope," Remus muttered as they made their way to the kitchen, "but I have a sneaking suspicion that Ted was only a small part of the reason they were ever there. They're watching me; watching Dora."
He frowned as Fleur began to pull containers from their icebox and boxes from the cupboards, tapping each on to duplicate itself into a double version. "I have a feeling they'll still be there."
Bill frowned as well, letting that comment hang in the air before Fleur suddenly instructed him to go and get a box for Remus to carry everything with. He obliged and went upstairs to grab an old moving box from a spare room, returning to find that Fleur was apparently going to feed Tonks and her family for a month. It was going to be a struggle to fit the amount of food she'd duplicated into a box.
"How do you plan on sending him with—?"
"'E can make two trips, or one of us can 'elp," Fleur said without concern. She was already strategically packing the large box; shrinking things down as necessary.
Remus, who'd been quietly standing to the side, seemingly lost in thought, suddenly gestured to a sheet of parchment that was lying on the countertop beside him. Bill had left it there earlier, and Remus had evidently noticed exactly what it was because he asked, "Wait, did you get another letter? Is this new?"
Bill nodded, walking over to look at the letter himself. These mystery letters, as he and his family called them, were not to be confused with the threats of death and torture that he and his family received fairly regularly. Those Bill had become rather numb to over the months.
But these were different, even from the start. There had been a few now: two to his parents, two to the twins, and now two to him. They weren't threats or hateful messages, but rather warnings.
The first had come just after the new year to the Burrow, telling them that they were being watched at home more than they realized; to beware and not to let their guard down ever.
The second and third letters had gone to Gringotts and the twins' shop respectively, sending them both a similar message to the one the Burrow had received.
The fourth had gone to the twins again, though this one specifically said not to open their shop the following weekend because something was happening in Diagon Alley. It advised them to get out and stay elsewhere; to take anything important with them.
For whatever reason—perhaps it was a gut feeling; perhaps it was their mother's begging and reminding them they had nothing to lose by listening—the twins did pack up much of their inventory and move over to the Burrow for the time being.
And as it turned out, a huge crowd of Death Eaters and Snatchers had swarmed Diagon Alley in a massive raid on the weekend in question—the largest and worst to date. They'd even somehow managed to get into the twins' shop, destroying what little they'd left behind and absolutely ransacking the place.
There had been much damage to the shops in Diagon Alley that day, but the twins' had seemed like a far more personal attack.
Had it not been for the warning, Fred and George likely would have still been in their flat just above the shop. All of their inventory would have likely been destroyed; they may have been murdered in their beds.
It had potentially saved their lives and livelihoods.
So when their father had got a letter saying to avoid the Ministry on Tuesday just earlier that very week, he'd heeded the warning far more willingly than he would have in the past. Claiming a nasty cold, he'd stayed home and missed a rather aggressive raid on his office for reasons that could best be described as ludicrous. Once the dust had settled, it appeared to have been more of an opportunity to intimidate and push some people around rather than achieve anything. One of his office mates had ended up at St. Mungo's with spell damage.
His father had remained "out sick" in the days since.
While these warnings were unexplainable, apparently someone was looking out for them. They had no idea who; there were no clues ever provided, and the letters were all typed with no signature. It was obviously someone who was invested in their well-being and was more connected than most.
Whoever it was must have shared some sort of personal relationship with at least one person in the family because—given the newest letter Bill had just received that morning—they knew exactly where Bill lived.
No one outside of his family, Fleur's family, Remus, and Tonks knew where he lived.
"How do you know they know you live here?" Remus asked after Bill had caught Remus up on the recent letter.
Bill handed him the parchment and urged him to read it, having already memorized it, though Remus still read aloud: They know you do not live at the Burrow. They are attempting to find out where you are and grow closer every day. They suspect you are the one hiding something since nothing has turned up at the Burrow or at Weasleys' Wheezes. Protect the cottage with every spell you have because when they find out—and they will—they will be coming.
Remus looked back at Bill. His expression was mystified.
"No idea," Bill said, answering the question he already suspected Remus was about to ask. "I have no idea who it could be. As far as we know, only a few people know where we live. It doesn't seem to be public record yet, but it's not exactly a secret either. For all we know, my Auntie Muriel could have told someone, who told someone else."
"But if she did," Fleur said, having stopped packing up food. "Zen word would 'ave got out. Someone would 'ave found us by now, no?"
Bill turned back to Remus. "It's why we suspect that whoever is sending these letters knows things, but they're keeping quiet. The question is, who could it be?"
Remus was shaking his head. "I've asked around the connections that I have and I know Kingsley has as well. No one seems to know what it's all about." He met Bill's eyes. "But given that it's helped your brothers and your father, it's safe to say they're looking out for you."
He gestured to the letter. "I'd heed their warning and protect the cottage. Speaking of, any luck on your Fidelius Charm research?"
Bill proceeded to tell him all about how he thought he'd had it and just needed to test it, though he didn't get too far into the details. Until he knew for sure it would work, he really wasn't ready to get everyone's hopes up.
Remus had needed to leave not long after because he hadn't wanted to leave Tonks and her mother for long. He'd asked Bill to keep him posted on his work. Plans were also made to potentially go and visit with Tonks in the coming days or have her over here. Remus would be in touch when it was safe.
Fleur had packed him what looked like a month's worth of food. He'd thanked her profusely, and she'd waved him off as if it was nothing. For her, it likely wasn't. She'd taken to cooking up a storm during their isolation.
"I cannot believe 'er fazer iz dead," Fleur said once their pair of them were alone again, Bill slumping into a chair at the kitchen table. "Of course I knew it was a possibility, but to 'ear it…"
She trailed off. She didn't seem to know what else to say. Bill didn't either. People were dying everyday, but when it happened to people he knew, it reminded him just how close things were. It could be any one of them next. He had a very large family, what were the odds of them all making it through this war in one piece?
He suddenly stood back up. He needed to go and test his charm.
The remaining daylight hours were spent tweaking his spellwork and learning from his mistakes, but the house never vanished for Fleur when it should have. Bill went to bed that night angry and frustrated. There was no time for error any longer.
The following day, he and Fleur had gone by the Burrow to not only check-in on everyone, but also because his father had wanted to see the progress on the charm. Bill had already unloaded on him about his struggles, and his father suggested that perhaps they could figure out the missing piece together. It seemed as good a place as any to practice.
The house was busier than usual, seeing as the twins had temporarily moved back into the Burrow after the events at Diagon Alley, and Ginny had just arrived home for her Easter holiday. She came bearing more horrific stories from Hogwarts, though she also had tales about how much time she and her friends now spent hiding in the Room of Requirement.
"Neville and I have talked about it, and we've decided that when we get back, we're going to get everyone we can to move into it for refuge."
"Move in, as in live there?" Fred asked.
She nodded affirmatively.
"In the Room of Requirement?" George asked.
She nodded again. "The law says we have to go to Hogwarts. That's it. The Room of Requirement is in Hogwarts, isn't it? We're protected there."
She paused for a moment to watch a moth that had trapped itself inside the kitchen as it fluttered around the ceiling. "The room will help provide us with what we need. Snape and the Carrows can't access it; none of their little Slytherin stooges can either. We just need to make sure we can get the word out to the right people."
Bill glanced over at his mother, expecting her to have some sort of objection to this open rebellion, but she didn't seem to. She'd actually been very quiet the entire evening after hearing the news of Tonks' father. He suspected she'd simply reached her limit of objections. Fighting back and protecting oneself, through any means necessary, was all they had left.
As Ginny continued to talk, Arthur suddenly glanced over at Bill, shooting him a look that asked if he was ready to get to work. He nodded and the pair stood; Bill threw Fleur a quick smile to say he'd be back soon.
The twins took the opportunity to stand as well, claiming they had to meet Lee at their secret location so that they could do that evening's Potterwatch. Remus was set to be on, as was Kingsley. They had plans to report Ted Tonks' death, as well as—as Bill found out from them that evening—the deaths of Dirk Cresswell and Gornuk, a goblin Bill knew very well. As it turned out, they'd all gone down fighting. According to the twins, they had a very busy program that evening.
"Password is 'Albus'," Fred reminded them before they walked out the door and into the evening with Bill and their father. All four of them had their wands out, though their mother had been quick to tell them that she hadn't seen anyone out there watching the house in days. No one had even come to check on "Ron" in a week.
It was all very strange. The calm and quiet was proving to be very unusual.
"Something must be happening because it's too quiet lately," Arthur muttered once it was he and Bill standing in the garden, looking up at their old house. "I don't know what, but I can sense it."
"If that's the case, let's hope that our mystery letter writer doesn't decide to go silent on us anytime soon," Bill muttered. "Not that they've been specific lately. The one I got in the post yesterday was very much a generic message. 'Protect yourself and your home.'"
"Yes, but it clued you into the fact that they're looking for where you live," his father said. "That they suspect you may be the one hiding Harry, not us." He looked back at the house. "Which may explain why it's been so quiet around here lately."
Bill cleared his throat, a slight chill running through him at the thought that someone out there was obsessively searching for him and his home. "If they think I'm hiding Harry, then I need to master this spell now. It's more important than ever."
His father nodded, urging him to show him everything he'd worked out so far. Once the pair got to work, time quickly began to fly. Bill explained in detail what he'd uncovered and how important complete concentration was; his father was taking everything in and attempting the spell himself.
But nothing was happening. Something was still missing.
Fleur appeared at the back door of the garden after a bit, her smile encouraging and already silently asking if they'd made any progress. She seemed to get her answer when neither Bill or his father offered up any immediate response.
"Potterwatch will be on shortly," she told them. "If you would like to listen."
His father looked over at him, causing Bill to groan out of frustration. "I feel like we're so close. What am I missing?"
"Did you want to take a break?"
He sighed. "I don't think we should. This has to be figured out. Plus, it's not as if the twins didn't give us a preview earlier." He looked back at Fleur. "We're going to keep working, but let us know if anything new comes up."
She nodded and smiled, calling out to him, "Do not overzink it. You always frustrate yourself when you overzink zings," before disappearing back into the Burrow.
He did overthink things, that was true. It was solid advice, only he didn't know how to take it. It was hard not to overthink things when you and your entire family's lives were at stake.
"Starting from the top," Bill muttered, pointing his wand at the Burrow.
Another hour passed, and both he and his father were doing everything right. Bill was positive he had the steps in order—they could not be incorrect; he'd quadruple checked everything—which meant he was fucking up the execution somehow. What was he missing? The Burrow should be vanishing for one of them.
"Fuck," he muttered to himself, walking over to the picnic table in the garden and flinging himself down out of frustration. He was clearly missing something. He'd failed somewhere. He had to go back to the drawing board.
His father walked over and gave him an encouraging pat on the shoulder. "Bill, it's an exceptionally difficult charm already. Add to that the modifications, and it's not a surprise it's not an easy process."
"It was easy for Dumbledore…"
He chuckled a bit. "We don't know that, but…comparing ourselves to Dumbledore will be a losing battle every time." He gave him another pat before offering. "Come on, let's take a break. Get some tea and clear our heads."
"Fine," Bill muttered, glancing back at the Burrow as if it was suddenly the most obnoxious sight in existence.
Over the years, he'd broken some of the most difficult curses around, but this—this was where he was foiled? Hiding his childhood home was turning out to be more difficult than cracking the most difficult spells Gringotts had to offer? More difficult than the ancient magic of the pyramid of Egypt? Seriously?
He stood from the picnic table and began heading toward the Burrow, though noticed his father wasn't following. When he glanced back to see the hold up, he noticed his dad was blinking in a rather confused sort of way, looking up at the Burrow as if he'd never seen it. He suddenly muttered, "But it should be right there…"
"Sorry?"
"The house," his father said, sounding befuddled. "I thought it was…there. But it's not there. I can't imagine where…"
He suddenly turned around and started scanning the garden at attention, as if in search of something. "Where…?"
Bill watched him for a moment before turning to look back at the Burrow—which was clearly there, just as it always was. When he looked back, he saw his father looking as if he was staring straight through it, mumbling something indecipherable to himself.
Hold on…He slowly began realizing what might be happening and started to feel the slow burn of excitement boiling up inside. His father had no idea where the Burrow was despite it being right in front of him.
In his research, the books had always stressed that while the charm was in use, memories of the hidden people—or in this case, building—would not vanish even if the physical object did. Outsiders would be able to remember everything they'd experienced with these people and places, they simply would not be able to find where it currently was—even if they were standing right in front of it. Their reaction would mimic confusion; as if they were simply lost and had made a wrong turn in their search.
They'd be acting as his father currently was.
"You can't find what you're looking for?" Bill asked his dad, wanting to be completely clear before he let himself celebrate.
He was shaking his head. "Which is very strange because I recognize all of that—" He gestured toward the garden and the orchard. "So I know it should be right here, but…it's not. So I must be…wrong."
He again looked straight through the Burrow, pointing. "Perhaps it's over that hill?"
"Dad," Bill said, smiling. "The Burrow is located at the end of Fernhill Road in Ottery St. Catchpole."
Instantly, it was like a light switched on in his father's eyes. He blinked and looked straight up at the Burrow again, just as he'd been doing for the last two hours without event. After a few moments, he muttered, "You say that like I haven't lived here for nearly thirty years."
Bill let a mad sounding sort of laugh escape him before he gave a victorious holler. "It worked!"
"Wait? Did it?"
His father caught on quick enough to what was happening, especially once Bill began to walk his father—and himself—through what had likely happened. The charm apparently was slower to activate than Bill had accounted for. It was a slow reaction; it would take some time to come into effect. As it were, Bill had been led to believe the results to show themselves in five to ten minutes, but perhaps the modification had elongated things? For all he knew now, it could be anywhere from fifteen minutes to an hour—or anywhere in between.
His father seemed shocked to hear it had worked so well on him, and even doubled down on his desire to figure out how to perform it himself. Bill was keen for him to keep trying, seeing as he now wanted to time just how long it would take. The pair had moved over to his father's work shed to allow Arthur to practice on that.
Roughly a half an hour later, Bill got his answer. It would take a half an hour after casting the spell for it to come into effect, as timed by his father.
Because Bill couldn't properly time it. He got to experience first-hand the immense confusion of knowing something should be there, but it wasn't. And not only wasn't it there, it didn't make sense that it wasn't.
Even when knowing that his father was performing the Fidelius Charm, he could not logically make the connection in his head as to why it vanished. The only thing his mind could process was that the shed was supposed to be somewhere…he just had no idea where.
It was by far the strangest feeling of befuddlement that he'd ever felt, especially once the shed reappeared after he'd been included in the secret. All of the brain fog had disappeared in an instant. Everything made sense again.
"You've done loads of things we're proud of, Bill," his father told him with a smile, "but this may be your biggest achievement yet."
Bill let a lazy smile creep across his face. "I'm only happy I can help."
He then held up his wand and proceeded to go through the motions to remove the charm, which he actually found to be quite easy in comparison. He'd always been better at breaking spells and curses than creating them.
"I shouldn't be the Secret Keeper," he told his father as he removed it. "You should."
"Well, that," his father began, "and Fred and George will be needing to find their way home tonight, so it's best to make that easy on them."
"I suppose," Bill said, smirking. "Though, it would be a laugh to see their faces when they couldn't find the Burrow."
His father smiled, still staring toward the Burrow in a longing manner. "It's really only a matter of time before we'll have to put it up for good. I'd sleep better at night if I could right now, but then how would I explain it to the Ministry when they come to check-in on Ron? As long as I still have to go to work, I have to keep us exposed."
He looked back at Bill. "You'll put it up on the cottage, though. Won't you?"
Bill nodded, thinking of the mystery letter and its warning. Unlike his parents, they didn't get Ministry visitors. He could easily hide the cottage and continue going to work as if nothing had changed. He'd likely go straight home tonight and do it to ensure he and Fleur were safer.
He only wished his parents could do the same.
Fleur and the others were ecstatic to hear the charm had worked, realizing it was just a matter of performing it now to ensure their protection. She'd given him such a big hug when he'd told her, launching into how proud she was and how she knew he could do it.
"I'll put it up at home when we get back," he told her. "You'll have to experience the strangeness of it disappearing from sight, despite knowing it should be there."
Fleur seemed excited by the prospect; excited that he was excited. They'd said their goodbyes to his family that night and, despite the late hour, both gathered in the garden to watch the spell consume their home.
"Once I do it," Bill began, pushing his windswept hair out of his face as the pair stood just outside the cottage. "It'll take about a half an hour to go into effect."
Fleur nodded, having already agreed to hang back while he went to perform it. They would then wait and let her experience the strangeness of the house disappearing from her mind. Most importantly though, by not clueing her in straight away to the secret, it would allow them both to know whether the charm had worked. If the house never disappeared for her, then he'd done something wrong.
He began to walk away from the house, toward the cliffs that bordered the sea and away from where he'd left Fleur. Once he'd gone a fair distance, he turned back to face his house, immediately raising his wand.
"O—"
A cracking noise pierced through the otherwise calm evening. His first thought was immediately, "Again, Lupin?", as he expected to see Remus now waltzing across the grass toward him with some new concern. His timing for appearing at these exact moments was almost comical at this point.
But when he turned to look, he saw no signs of Remus. He instead saw a small group of people; none of whom were immediately familiar to him.
Instinctually, he pointed his wand toward them. Near the house, he could see Fleur do the same. She was already moving closer and across the grass toward him.
"Who are you?!" Bill called out as the group moved closer. "If you don't stop approaching and announce yourself, I will stun first and ask questions later!"
From across the garden, a soft, melodic sounding female voice rather urgently replied, "Please don't stun us. We mean no harm. We were told to come here."
Fleur had come closer to him and the pair shared a quick glance as Bill now counted four people—or three people and a small creature, by the looks of it—having stopped in their tracks several yards away. He didn't see a wand in sight. In fact, he sensed they were in distress.
"Who are you?" Fleur called over. "Who told you to come 'ere?"
"Mr. Wheezy!" called the small creature, who—now that his eyes had adjusted and the initial shock had worn off—Bill realized was a house-elf. "He has asked Dobby to bring everyone here to safety! Dobby must return to help Mr. Wheezy and Harry Potter! Harry Potter has asked Dobby to come back!"
"Come back?" Fleur asked, just as Bill said, "What's this got to do with Harry?"
But the elf did not stick around to chat or answer questions. Without another word, and with an equally loud crack, he was gone. Bill found himself staring at the spot he'd been standing in.
From the remaining group, a girl stepped forward. She looked small and filthy, her clothes caked with dirt and her blonde hair stringy. She was barely recognizable, though Bill did realize that he knew her once he got a good look. It was Xenophillius Lovegood's daughter, Luna. The one Ginny said had gone missing from the Hogwarts Express months ago.
"Luna?" he asked.
"Hello, Bill Weasley," she said, offering him a rather perfunctory smile before turning to Fleur. "Hello, Fleur Delacour." She paused for a moment. "Or is it Weasley now?"
Fleur raised her eyebrow, seemingly confused by everything. "Eizer iz fine."
Luna nodded, turning back toward her group. "Mr. Ollivander is in a very bad way. He's been held captive much longer than the rest of us. Apparation was difficult for him."
"Mr. Ollivander?" Bill said, unable to hide the shock as his eyes landed on the oldest and clearly frailest of the bunch. He'd been missing for so long, everyone had assumed he was dead.
He, like Luna, looked filthy—though he also appeared terribly frail and weak. He was the only one of the group who wasn't standing, having moved to the ground to sit immediately upon arrival. He currently had his eyes closed, as if fighting off a wave of pain.
He may not have been dead, but he sure as hell looked like it.
"Yes," Luna said, her tone more direct. "Can we get him somewhere comfortable?"
"Uh, yes," he said, looking at Fleur, who shrugged as if to say she had no idea what was happening either. Luna had reached down to help pull up Ollivander on one side, though Bill met her to help take most of the weight off her.
Not that there was much weight to take. Luna, even with as small as she was, could have easily supported him entirely.
"Zis way," Fleur said, directing them toward the cottage. "I still do not understand what iz 'appening? What does zis 'ave to do wiz 'Arry?"
"Is Harry in trouble?" Bill asked as they crossed the threshold into the house and went to deposit Mr. Ollivander on the sofa. He made a pained grunt of a noise as he went down; Luna immediately sat beside him and began telling him he was alright now; that he was safe and to rest.
"We all were," came the voice of the third and quietest of the bunch—a tall bloke who looked to be Ron's age and was currently sporting the signs of a recent fight. There were bruises, dried blood, and scratches down his arms and across his face.
"Who are you?" Fleur asked.
"Oh, I'm Dean. I know Ron and Harry. We're roommates at Hogwarts—or we were, when we all went. I didn't go back this year." He pulled a slight face and gestured to himself. "Muggleborn."
Bill nodded, glancing back over at Ollivander and Luna, the latter of whom seemed very concerned for the old man's well being. He rounded back on Dean, realizing he was the one most likely to provide answers currently. "What's happened exactly?"
"Well, we—Mr. Ollivander, Luna, and I—we'd been taken separately by Death Eaters, but all locked up in the same cellar. At the Malfoys' house. That's where You-Know-Who and the Death Eaters have set up their command base, or whatever you want to call it. I'd been there only a few days. Luna, a few months. Mr. Ollivander…"
He looked at him and frowned. "Ages. I'm not even sure how long. Over a year."
"Nearly two years," Ollivander corrected, his voice croaking.
Bill immediately summoned a glass from the kitchen, filling it with water once it arrived and handing it to Luna, who encouraged Ollivander to drink.
"Harry and Ron were captured tonight and also brought there," Dean continued. "But somehow they managed to contact Dobby—the house elf you just met. After he arrived, he used his magic to Apparate us out. Harry told him to take us first; Ron told him that it was safe to come here."
"We're not sure how Dobby found us," Luna said, still beside Ollivander and holding the glass to his mouth, "but it's very good that he did."
Bill and Fleur exchanged looks, with Bill addressing Dean. "Harry and Ron were captured?"
He nodded, though it was Luna who added, "Hermione was there as well, but they didn't bring her down into the cellar." She frowned. "They kept her upstairs and started doing terrible things to her."
"What kind of terrible zings?" Fleur asked.
Luna continued to frown while Dean looked away and quietly mumbled. "We don't know, but we could hear her screaming." He looked back at them. "That was why Harry and Ron stayed behind. To help her."
Bill felt frozen to the spot. Holy shit, what the fuck was happening? If Ron, Harry, and Hermione were currently trapped and hurt by Death Eaters, they had to help them. Dean said they were at the Malfoys, so if he could contact the rest of the Order—
"Bill," said Fleur suddenly, snapping him out of his thoughts. She was currently pointing her wand at Ollivander, looking as if she was levitating him gently off the sofa. "Did you 'ear what I said?"
He shook his head.
"You need to message your family immediately!"
He stared at her for apparently a second too long, taking one more moment than she clearly wanted to process that because she immediately snapped, "You-Know-Who now knows Ron iz wiz 'Arry! Ze Burrow iz no longer safe! Zey need to be warned!"
Like a slap across the face, that snapped him back into reality.
"Shit!" he shouted, immediately darting toward the door. He wasn't sure why he went straight outside—his Patronus would have functioned just as well inside—but he quickly cast it, saying the words, "Get out! Leave immediately! They know Ron is with Harry!" and watching as the glow that had sprung from the tip of his wand vanished at a lightning speed out of sight.
After watching it vanish, he couldn't help but wonder if he should have said more. That Ron, Harry, and Hermione were currently stuck at the Malfoys—perhaps even dead. Maybe he should have delivered the message in person to be sure they understood the severity of the matter. He honestly wasn't entirely sure what he should be doing right now. Rushing to Burrow to be sure they got the message? Attempting to contact everyone else to go and ambush Malfoys' house? How much time did they have?
A nearby pop and the sight of two people appearing on the grass immediately stole his attention away from his thoughts. Without thinking, he was already moving forward when he heard another pop further away. There, a small group had appeared down near the cliffs, though there wasn't time to focus once the familiar voice of Ron called out, "Help! I need help!"
"Ron's here!" Bill shouted behind him and back to the house, rushing toward him and meeting him halfway as he carried a rather limp looking Hermione up toward him. She was like a rag doll in his arms, her eyes closed and her demeanor lifeless.
"Ron, what—?" Bill asked, quickly examining Hermione in the hopes that she was still alive. She was clammy and sweaty, but did let out a gasp of a breath, as if urgently trying to catch air in her lungs.
"She's hurt," Ron stammered, his voice uneven and shaky. He was trembling, and Bill knew that it had nothing to do with him supporting Hermione's dead weight. He looked terrified.
"What happened to her?"
"She's alive, but I don't know how bad it's…" Ron said, his voice catching. His eyes looked as if they were fighting off tears. "I just want her to be alright. She has to be alright."
"Get her inside," Bill said, seeing then that Fleur, Luna, and Dean had joined them; all now observing Hermione for themselves. Everyone's expression seemed to be frozen in worry and doubt. Fleur was mumbling to herself in rapid French at a speed Bill couldn't decipher on his best day.
From down by the cliffs, another familiar voice cut through the air with panicked sounding, "Dobby!" and immediately Bill was reminded of the others who'd arrived. The voice had been male; it had sounded afraid.
"'Arry," Fleur said, obviously recognizing it as well. She looked back at Bill. "Iz it 'Arry?"
He didn't get a chance to answer. The voice had cut him off before he could, again screaming, "Dobby—no! HELP! HELP!"
