May (1 & 2), 1998
Things were much quieter the morning after Harry and the others left. Not that the quiet would last long, but at least at breakfast—where everyone usually gathered before going in their separate directions for the day—the effects of four fewer people at Shell Cottage was felt immediately.
It was Fleur, Bill, Luna, and Dean now—the latter two already sensing the change in the air and questioning what their own plans were. It was over sausage and toast that Dean mentioned venturing out on his own again, something Fleur immediately shut right down.
"And go where?" she asked him. "Back in the woods? Where the Snatchers are lurking everywhere? And with no wand? Are you hoping to be caught?"
He seemed sheepish under her gaze. "No…"
"You would think after so many brushes with trouble, you would have learned to stay where you are safe," Fleur said, having prepared far too much sausage that morning because she'd become accustomed to cooking for so many people.
"I just feel rather useless sitting around here doing…nothing," he mumbled. "I'm taking up space, eating all your food…"
"You are not eating anything we do not already have," Fleur muttered, walking over to pile extra sausage on his plate. "In fact, eat this. It will go bad otherwise."
"Fleur's right," Bill offered, picking at an extra piece of sausage himself. "You've got no wand, so even if you had somewhere to go, what good would it do you?"
"Perhaps we should contact Mr. Ollivander and ask him to make you a new wand?" Luna suggested, having pulled out the brand new wand that Ollivander had made for her after his recent departure. It was evident that Luna's kindness and care had meant a great deal to the old wizard, because he'd barely been gone a few days before the wand had turned up. It was almost as if the moment he found himself with the proper tools and strength, it had been his first priority.
Unfortunately for Dean, it left him as the only person now without a wand.
The rest of breakfast, and the remainder of the morning was quiet. Not just because the others had left, but everyone simply seemed lost to their own thoughts. There was a brief conversation about where they thought the others had gone, to which Bill hadn't even hesitated to say, "Gringotts". That had spurred Dean to ask why they would have gone there, though Bill's guess was as good as theirs.
No one seemed to have a clue as to what could have possibly been their plan, but it didn't take long for Fleur and Bill's worst fears to be confirmed.
It was midmorning. Dean and Luna had gone outside, as they usually did, and she and Bill had stayed inside. They were keeping themselves busy by cleaning up after all of their departed guests, washing linens and putting away all of the extra beds and items that had been in use these last several weeks.
That was when Dean had come inside, calling out with an urgency in his voice that something unusual was happening.
Bill had gone out first, and when Fleur followed she was startled to see what looks like a parliament of owls perched in a single tree just outside the perimeter of the charm line. At least twenty, by her count; she'd never seen so many at one time outside of an owlery or post office. They couldn't come any closer due to the protections of the charm keeping them from revealing the exact location of the house—in case the owls were tracked—but they did have the sense to sit there and wait for someone to take notice.
"They just started arriving," Luna said, having walked over to where they were all now standing and observing. "At first it was just one or two—we barely noticed—but after several minutes, they had all turned up."
"That many messages is never good," Bill muttered, worry-lines etching deeper into his face as he turned and looked at Fleur. "Something's happened."
She tried to reassure him, and herself, that it couldn't have been Order related. "We would have received a Patronus message if it was urgent."
"Yeah, but someone sending that many owls still seems urgent."
He set out forward to approach the perimeter; everyone followed, those with wands pulling them out. Fleur kept glancing around to see if this was some sort of ambush; if people were lurking, but if they were, they weren't apparent. There were not many places to hide directly around the house, and it only took a quiet sweep with her eyes to see no one visible.
A quick revealing spell showed no one was invisible.
Bill went out past the charm line, where immediately three owls with messages all swooped down at him from the tree. The others began clamoring and suddenly seemed restless, as if they too had messages to deliver, but were waiting their turn.
She, Dean and Luna all also stepped forward, and more owls swooped down. The four of them were all trying to awkwardly detach letters, trying to see what this was all about, but it was difficult with so many birds vying for attention. It took Fleur a minute, given she had several owls nipping at her, but as soon as she had one letter, she stepped back into the protection of the charm to get some space to read.
The others had all done the same, everyone now silently reading the letters. It only took a few words for Fleur to realize what this was about.
Her stomach felt like it dropped into her knees.
The letter was to Bill from Gringotts—an urgent request for assistance due to a security breach. It wasn't a personal letter, it was an automatic response—something she'd seen him get once or twice when something dodgy or unfamiliar happened at the bank when he wasn't present. Being a head security wizard, he was automatically on a response chain for any problems, break-ins, or security issues. He, and whomever else was involved, usually would immediately go to the bank to respond and handle the issue.
By the looks of it, going into hiding hadn't removed him from the chain.
"There's been a security break at Gringotts," Dean said, holding up his letter.
"Mine says that as well," said Luna. "They're asking for your help, Bill."
Bill was staring straight through his letter at this point, clearly lost in thought. When he finally looked up, his stone cold gaze went straight to Fleur. They were both clearly thinking the exact same thing.
"I have the same message," she finally said to him.
Bill walked over and took her letter, casting it a quick glance before then collecting Dean and Luna's and doing the same.
"They all say the same thing," he said, shuffling through them before walking back over to the perimeter to go retrieve more messages. "It's an automatic security response that I would get in the event of a break-in."
"Someone broke into Gringotts?" Dean asked.
"Not just someone…" he muttered, pulling more letters off owls, reading and discarding them quickly. "Same letter…same letter…"
They all moved forward to help. Every letter was the same—the automatic response.
"It means no one's responding," Bill said, more to himself than speaking directly to anyone. "Or not enough people are responding."
He looked at Dean, who was standing beside him. "The letters will keep coming until they have this under control. I'm apparently not the only person not turning up to work lately."
As he said that, yet another owl swooped in from the sky, quickly joining its friends on a lower branch.
"Hold on," Luna said suddenly, holding up the letter she'd just retrieved. "This one is different."
She walked it over to Bill, who took it and immediately began to read it to himself. Fleur watched his face with bated breath, waiting for him to provide any sort of useful information as to what exactly was happening.
After a moment, he pursed his lips and looked up at her.
"It's from Purgak," he said. "He says while he knows I won't answer, he's reaching out to whomever he can. They've had a massive break-in down in the old vaults. They don't even know what was taken yet, but it's a shit show." He paused for a long moment. "There were casualties."
Fleur gasped. "Was it anyone we know?"
"I'm sure of it," he said quietly. "I know a lot of people and goblins there. But if you mean Ron, Harry, or Hermione, it doesn't say. It does say the thieves got away, but it does not mention if they all got away, or only some of them…"
His eyes suddenly went wide, as if he couldn't believe what he was about to say, "And they escaped on a fucking dragon…"
"Pardon?!" Fleur spluttered, not even comprehending what that meant. "How?"
"Doesn't say," he muttered, looking up at the sky out of frustration.
"Wait, sorry," Dean interjected. "Are you saying Harry, Ron, and Hermione broke into Gringotts?"
Bill nodded. "Seems that way. And apparently—" He shouted the next part, "Hopefully escaped on a dragon! We have no way of knowing who made it out and who didn't!"
He walked several steps away so that he was facing the seas and nothing more. Even more loudly than before, he shouted, "Fuck!"
It was an agonizing half hour after that, with them trying to make sense of things while also trying to fill in others with what was happening. Bill had sent Patronuses immediately to his family, Kingsley, and Remus letting him know everything that they knew. The response was immediate and chaotic; everyone wanted more information that she and Bill didn't have.
At one point, it felt like they had a petting zoo of various Patronus forms in the middle of their sitting room, all delivering their messages over each other.
New information came around late morning. Fleur had the good sense to put on the wireless, and sure enough the news had spread and they were covering the story of the break-in. It was immediately declared that Harry Potter and his accomplices, Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger, had been the perpetrators; that they murdered goblins and bank workers "without abandon" and were considered unhinged and dangerous. They were last seen escaping on the back of a Ukrainian Ironbelly, which had apparently burst through the ceiling of the bank on departure.
Any sightings of them should be reported to the proper authorities immediately.
It sounded absolutely insane. Or as Dean put it, "Epic."
"If they really burst through the ceiling and escaped on dragon back, that's the coolest thing I've ever heard," Dean said. "I know I'm not supposed to believe the shit they say about Harry, but I want to believe that."
Fleur found it impossible to concentrate and was practically biting her thumb nail down to the quick, but the one thing she wanted to choose to believe was that all three of them had actually escaped and were still currently alive. If they were actually flying over the country right now on a dragon…well, she couldn't bear to think about that on top of everything else. It was too mad to comprehend.
"Where do you think they're going?" Luna asked, though she found herself with no responses. Everyone seemed completely lost in their own heads.
The afternoon dragged on endlessly. Patronuses shot back and forth, but no new information came. The news kept reiterating the terrible things Harry had done; and how he was currently on the loose; to please look up in the sky and report any dragon sightings to authorities immediately. Everything was about how insane and dangerous Harry was; how he wouldn't hesitate to hurt you or your families in his quest for disassembling their functional magical society.
On the contrary, Fred and George had taken to Potterwatch on their own to report that if you saw Harry Potter flying over your house on a dragon, to remember—"You saw nothing."
"And don't be afraid to test out those memory charms on neighbors you know who would feel the need to say something," one of the twins had said. "Because we can assure you, if Harry Potter has a need to be on a dragon, you better not slow him down."
The rest of day was a blur. By the time evening fell upon them, Fleur realized she hadn't eaten since breakfast because she'd simply forgotten. The news was still talking of Harry being on the loose, which Bill kept reminding everyone was a good thing.
"They can't find them," he said, just the two of them in the sitting room next to the wireless now. He was grinning for the first time in hours.
"I must assume they did not use the dragon for anything more than an escape," Fleur said. "I cannot believe the Ministry is stupid enough to think they would keep using one well after."
"You can't believe the Ministry is stupid?" Bill asked her, still grinning. "Really? Think about what you just said?"
She begrudged him with a lazy smile, mumbling, "Touche," because that was true, none of this stupidity should surprise her any longer.
"I still wonder what they went into Gringotts to find?" she added mindfully, asking that question for about the twentieth time that day.
"I still wonder how they got that deep into Gringotts to be able to take anything" Bill muttered. "And once I get a chance to really talk to them, I'm going to need to hear some details."
She reached over and put her hand on his. "Let us be thankful that the security measures in place were able to be overcome. How would you feel if something you helped create had just killed your brother and his friends?"
"Not great," he said, laughing almost anxiously as he took her hand and squeezed it affectionately. For some reason, things felt more relaxed now than they had all day. Harry and the others had evaded capture; they were likely hiding somewhere, hopefully using whatever it was they needed from Gringotts to further their future plans. Everything had been chaotic for several hours, but now they were simply back to their usual level of worry.
Which was still quite high, but not as high as earlier in the day.
Bill went and made them both sandwiches, leaving out the ingredients for Luna and Dead if they were interested. He'd even called up the stairs to let them know, but there hadn't been an immediate response. She could hear footsteps—they sounded pacing—but whatever Dean and Luna were up to, they were busy. Fleur had stopped really trying to figure out what anyone else in this house was up to ages ago.
They ate quickly, with Bill telling her how Charlie was going to kill him once news of the escaped dragon reached him in Romania. Charlie had heard long ago of rumors of an imprisoned dragon, and apparently was not happy about it. Bill had always played dumb, claiming he was just trying to keep Charlie out of Azkaban since he knew he'd want to break into Gringotts to try and free it. Now it was out in the open—literally.
"I wish I could contact Gringotts for information and find out exactly what happened," Bill said once their sandwiches were done, "but things are too hot right now. Perhaps in a week I can—?'
The sound of very hurried footsteps down the stairs made him stop and turn to look. Fleur did as well, seeing that Dean and Luna were both dashing downstairs, clearly excited about something.
"Harry's at Hogwarts!" Dean announced, his expression exuberant as he entered the room and brandished a coin in his hand. "He's gone to Hogwarts!"
"How do you…?" Bill began.
"We got a message from Neville at school," Luna said, gesturing to the coin in Dean's hand that he was currently handing to Bill.
He scanned it, reading aloud, "Harry at Hogwarts! Come ASAP directly into Hog's Head. We fight!"
"What is this?" he asked, further examining the coin. "Is this…it has to be a Protean Charm, correct?"
"I believe it might be," Luna said, then proceeding to explain about how the coin was used as a means of communication among the members of Dumbledore's Army. One could send a message through one coin and everyone else with the same enchanted coin would receive it. If intercepted by the wrong hands, you could make it so it otherwise looked like a regular Galleon. One of Hermione's ideas, apparently. All of the members of Dumbledore's Army had one.
It was fairly ingenious.
"You could not use it to communicate and tell the others where you were while you were captured?" Fleur asked Luna, watching Bill hand the coin back to her.
She shook her head. "I needed a wand." She looked down at her coin. "Neville told us he would alert us if Harry ever turned up back to Hogwarts to help fight Snape and Carrows out."
"And now we can!" Dean said. It was the most excited Fleur had ever seen him, as if he had been itching for a moment like this for ages.
"Wait, Fleur said, still somewhat confused. "What is happening?"
"Revolution," Luna said. "It's time to take Hogwarts back. This has been going on for too long."
"Well, no one's arguing with that," Bill said, looking over at Fleur. "But what does—?"
At that very moment, a Patronus in the form of a weasel came shooting into their sitting room for probably the tenth time that day. Immediately, Arthur Weasley's voice said, "Ginny's got word that Harry is at Hogwarts. There's talk of a fight. Come to Muriel's as soon as possible."
Fleur blinked. Those coins really did get news around quickly.
"Come to Muriel's?" Bill said, looking even more confused.
"I don't think we will," Luna said plainly, looking at Dean for confirmation. "Go to Muriel's, that is. I'd like to go straight to Hogwarts."
"Woah, hold on," Bill said.
"Do you think that is wise?" Fleur said. "To go straight in without a plan or a—"
"I trust Neville's already got one if he's sent the message," Luna said. "If not him, Harry. They are very good with plans." She nodded affirmatively. "I am not worried. We've been preparing for this for some time now."
"Yeah," Dean agreed. "I trust Neville and Harry to know what they're doing."
Fleur and Bill exchanged glances. Truthfully, she wasn't entirely sure rushing straight to Hogwarts was the best idea without backup or an idea of what was happening there, but at the same time, the message had said to come as soon as possible. They seemed to be wasting precious moments here.
"Alright," Bill said to them. "You two go and we'll go to Muriel's and see my family first—make sure we've alerted as many people as possible as to what's happening. We'll try to be right behind you."
"The message said to go straight into the Hog's Head," Fleur reminded them.
"Likely to avoid detection from anyone patrolling Hogsmeade," Bill added. "I can only imagine how many people they've got outside the school, but I trust Aberforth to keep his pub safe."
Fleur looked from Dean to Luna. "Can you Apparate?"
"Luna never learned, but I passed my test last year," Dean said. "It's how I got around for all those months on my own. I obviously don't have a wand, but if I can borrow Luna's, she can side-along."
"That sounds lovely," Luna said, already pulling out her wand and handing it to Dean. In the next moment, Dean reached out and grabbed her hand, both of them looking back and Bill and Fleur to confirm they were leaving. It was strange to feel the urge to say goodbye, since they'd likely be seeing each other shortly, but in these times, not saying goodbye—even for minutes apart—seemed like a bad idea.
"Be safe," Fleur said, moving forward to kiss them both on their cheeks. "We will be behind you."
After a few reassuring smiles, Dean and Luna disappeared on the spot. It left Bill and Fleur on their own.
"Is this actually happening?" Bill said, sounding as if he was thinking out loud more than actually asking. "Are they trying to take back Hogwarts tonight?"
"If they try to take back Hogwarts, that will surely alert every Death Eater in the country," Fleur said quietly, realizing exactly what this meant.
"And You-Know-Who."
She looked at Bill, who looked back at her as if they both knew exactly what this likely meant. This may start out about Hogwarts, but it would likely end as something much bigger. Because You-Know-Who would not give up Hogwarts without a fight.
Without a war…
"What do you mean they're gone?!" Bill heard his mother shout the moment he'd entered Muriel's townhouse with his father and Fleur in tow.
"I was gone for two minutes!" she said, directing all of this onto her aunt who was sitting in one of her high back chairs and sipping tea that her house elf had just prepared for her.
Muriel, in turn, shrugged. "Well, they took those two minutes to leave."
"What's going on?" asked Arthur, inserting himself into the conversation. Bill already had a sense he knew what this was about, seeing as other than his parents and Fleur, only Muriel, Ollivander and a house elf were present. The rest of the house seemed strangely quiet.
"What's going on," Molly repeated, turning to her husband, "is that in the two minutes it took for us to walk outside to let Fleur in on the secret, your children left to go to Hogwarts!"
"All of them? Even Ginny?"
"Oh, Ginevra was the one most anxious to leave," Muriel said, sipping more of her tea. "She sided right along with one of the twins as he Apparated away."
"Why didn't you stop them?!" Molly asked.
Muriel made a funny sort of face. "Why would I do that? Let them go and run those fools out of Hogwarts."
His mother looked positively beside herself as she turned to Bill and her husband. "They just went running into who knows what! Ginny's underage! They could be ambushed!"
"Then we should probably hurry up and figure out what we're doing," Arthur said, turning to Bill and Fleur. "I've sent a Patronus to everyone I can, and they're all making sure word gets out to the rest of the Order. I have no idea what's happening at Hogwarts, but we're all going to Aberforth's to find out. I have a feeling this could be something big."
"I agree," Bill said, his expression stony. "The idea might be to fight Snape and the others out of Hogwarts, but if You-Know-Who gets wind of it—"
"And he will," his father said.
Bill nodded. "There will be reinforcements."
"Absolutely," his father said. "This could easily turn into..." He trailed off, looking as if he didn't want to finish that sentence. He instead said, "We need all the help we can get. Remus should be here in a minute, then we'll figure out the next step."
"What about Charlie?" Bill asked, feeling an intense urge to make sure he'd been informed. "A Patronus wouldn't have reached him in Romania."
His father seemed to be thinking about that one as if he'd just realized Bill had a point. His mother was mumbling, "An owl would never be quick enough."
"Then let's do what we'd said we'd do if we needed to reach him in a pinch," Bill said. "Just as we discussed."
Both of his parents looked at him. They had discussed a plan ages ago—once the Ministry had fallen and any form of instantaneous communication had now become impossible. Back then it had seemed almost like a far-fetched idea—something they'd never really have utilized. Nothing had happened that was so dire that they'd needed to contact Charlie so quickly. Not until today.
But he could remember the conversation like it was yesterday. He, his parents, and Charlie on the morning after his wedding—after the ambush.
"We're not going to be able to Floo Call any more," Charlie said before he left that day. "It's too risky to talk about anything deeper than the weather. And they most certainly will be watching. I'm going to be left completely in the dark as to what's happening."
"We can still owl," Molly had said, "but yes, obviously we can't include any important information. And it wouldn't be very quick…"
"And a Patronus won't travel all the way to Romania," Bill muttered. "Though, there are ways to establish a faster connection. A Protean Charm, for example. We could enchant an object to relay messages—"
"While a good idea," his father interjected, "perhaps we think even simpler. As in, non-magical forms of communication. We stay away from magic entirely in this case to be safe."
"Arthur, what does that mean?"
"What? Something like Muggle communication?" Charlie asked.
His father was nodding. "A telephone, for example. I've used them before, and while I struggle a bit with the nuance, it's quick and instant. The Ministry would struggle to track them, and even if they tried, there are thousands of them in the country and they can't track them all."
"I don't know," said Molly. "I worry about how trustworthy Muggle communication is. Is it even reliable?"
"It's more reliable than nothing," he countered.
"They're fairly reliable," Bill chipped in. "I did a presentation on them and how they worked for my Muggle Studies class back at school. Muggles have been using them successfully for ages. They're easy to use and, Dad's right, there are millions of them in existence. We could easily keep using different ones here that couldn't be traced back to us."
"Well, as lovely as that all sounds," Molly said rather sarcastically. "A lot of good that will do us when Charlie doesn't have a telephone on his end."
"Don't you have one at the sanctuary?" his father asked, looking at Charlie for confirmation. "You'd told me that."
"I did," Charlie said slowly.
"Yes, that's why I suggested it!"
"It belongs to the lead dragonologist, though. He has one in his apartment on the premises. He's got a very elderly Muggle grandmother he likes to keep in touch with, so he went about having it installed years ago."
"Would he let you use it?" Bill asked. "If we called in an emergency?"
"I don't see why not. I have saved his life twice before." He shook his head. "He was this close to becoming a Horntail's barbequed snack just last winter until I managed to step in."
"Great!" Bill said immediately, quickly adding, "about using the telephone, that is. Not the whole bit about nearly dying…but you'll need to get his number and send it to us."
Charlie furrowed his brow. "What number? Why does he have a number?"
"The telephone number," his father said. "All of them have one."
"I remember from my project that they're unique to each telephone and usually quite long," Bill said. "So make sure you get all the digits, and in the correct order. That's important, Charlie.."
Charlie made a face—it was his, "this seems more complicated than I'd anticipated" expression, but he'd still told them he'd look into it and be in touch.
And he had, roughly a week later. He'd sent them a telephone number with instructions on what to do if they did call. Apparently the bloke with the phone even had the capabilities to leave a message if no one picked up on their end, which Charlie instructed them to do.
Muggles really did manage to get by without magic.
But they'd never needed to contact him in a hurry until tonight. Up until now, they'd managed with owls, seeing as the most important news they'd needed to send to him was that they'd gone into hiding.
"You mean that telly Muggle thing?" his mother asked. "I don't know about that…"
"No, that's exactly what we should do," his father said, nodding at Bill. "Bill's right. That was the plan. I'd nearly forgotten. Charlie needs to be made aware, even if he can't necessarily do much where he is, I also wouldn't put it past him to figure out how to help or who to contact. He's always been resourceful."
"And 'e 'as dragons," Fleur offered as an afterthought.
"But he'd never intentionally put them in harm's way," Bill said with a pinched face. "He treats them like they're puppies who need protection as opposed to giant beasts who can take out half an army with their dragon fire." He sighed. "We've had endless debates about that. He's very much on the 'dragons are not to be used as weapons' side of the fence."
His father had walked over to a nearby drawer in a bureau and pulled out a small piece of parchment and small bag. When he handed them both to Bill, he immediately opened the bag to see its contents.
"Muggle money, so you can make your call," his father explained. "Remember when I had you exchange some for me? I kept it just in case we ever had to do this. Now go and ring him like we talked about. There's a telephone box two blocks over that you can use—"
"I know where to find one," Bill said, thinking of the many he'd passed and barely paid any attention to, but zeroing in on a specific street corner in his mind. "I'll let him know and come straight back."
His father nodded, just as a knocking on the door gave them all a start. Everyone but Muriel that is, who merely muttered, "If they're knocking, they're clearly on your side and are one of those people you've told the secret to. No need to get worked up…"
It was Remus at the door, him already firing off questions a mile a minute as to if they'd heard anything new and if they were ready to go. Kingsley would apparently meet them at the Hog's Head. Tonks was apparently staying back with baby Teddy.
"Which took entirely too much convincing," Remus added. "She's not happy with me right now."
"I would not be eizer," Fleur said pointedly. "She 'as trained her entire life for zis, and she iz being told to stay home? Iz she not ze one more prepared to handle zis? Why are you not staying 'ome wiz ze baby?"
Remus stared at her—a typical Remus and Fleur stare down; Bill was getting used to them in these last few months—but he decided to skip the inevitable debate, tugged on Fleur's arm, and asked if she'd come with him to keep watch while he rang Charlie.
They'd left the group of them behind, claiming they'd make the call and meet them at the Hog's Head, and Bill Apparated the pair of them away to a random suburb of London that he remembered visiting when he'd been searching for Mad-Eye's body on the day he'd been killed. He and Remus had scoured much of the area in search of him, and while they'd come up empty handed, he did remember stopping to lean against a large red telephone booth at some point to gather himself for a moment. He'd read street signs in passing, oddly committing them to memory since he associated them with Mad-Eye's death. It was why he remembered where to go.
A street light was shining down on them as he looked around. The street was empty other than a car down the street making a turn, but he still pulled out his wand. Fleur already had hers out, scanning the area. As Bill moved toward the telephone booth, he told Fleur he'd do the ringing. Fleur said she would stand watch outside.
He let himself into the booth, shutting the door behind him and grabbing at the bag of coins. He suddenly hoped he had enough. He wasn't sure how much a call to Romania would cost. He knew these telephones tended to charge money by the minute.
What time was it in Romania? It was after 8 PM here, which meant it was after 6 PM there…Would Charlie still even be at the sanctuary? He worked strange hours, so he may have been. But he also may have left for the day. Bill knew he didn't have enough coins for a long call; definitely not long enough for someone to need to seek Charlie out if he wasn't nearby.
He dialed the number slowly, hoping he was doing this right since it had been a long time since his Muggle Studies project. A voice on the other end, an operator of some sort, picked up and quoted him an amount to deposit to connect the call. He already knew without counting that it would be many of his coins.
He thankfully had a basic understanding of Muggle currency, seeing as he'd picked it up around Gringotts while poking around and learning exchange rates, so he counted his change out loud as he put each coin through the slot.
There was no voice to say his call would connect, just some clicking sounds until a buzz-like, ringing began to intermittently play out of the top end of the receiver. Once. Twice. Three times. Shit, he wasn't entirely sure how to leave a message on these things if he had to…
"Alo!" came a male voice on the other end. A voice speaking…not English.
Fuck, he didn't even think about the language barrier.
"Um, hello?" said Bill, speaking quickly.
"Cine este aceasta?" said the man.
"Uh, sorry. I don't speak…Do you speak English?"
"Despre ce este vorba?
"Shit," Bill muttered. "Uh, Charlie Weasley? You know Charlie Weasley?"
"Nu înțeleg," said the man, though he repeated back, "Weasley?"
"Yes!" Bill said, adding, "Da!" since he remembered Charlie having taught him that little bit of Romanian.
"Weasley," the voice repeated, though Bill had no idea if he was just repeating it back to him at this point or actually recognizing the name. From outside the booth, Fleur was looking at him through the glass, silently asking what was wrong.
He pushed open the booth's door a crack. "You don't understand Romanian, do you?"
"I zink you would know if I did."
He sighed, staring at Fleur for a moment before putting the receiver back to his mouth and saying, "Français?"
Fleur threw him a very sharp look. "Are you asking if I—?"
He covered the mouth of the receiver. "Not you." He then uncovered it again and spoke to the other end again. "Parles-tu français?"
"Oui!" the man said, happy to seemingly be getting somewhere. "Je parle un peu."
Bill missed that last part, but only partially because of translation. The second he'd heard he could speak French, he'd thrown open the door to the booth the rest of the way and shoved the receiver into Fleur's hand.
"He speaks French!" he urged. "We don't have much time. Tell him we need to talk to Charlie."
Fleur took the receiver and gave it a funny look, clearly unsure what it even was or what to do. She evidently had never had much interest in learning Muggle technology; she also hadn't had a parent who was rather obsessed with the ins and outs of it to even give her a basic familiarity.
"Speak there," Bill said, pointing to the mouthpiece. "And you listen through that bit. Ask for Charlie."
She slowly put the telephone to her face, tentatively saying, "Bonsoir?" She paused. "Oui, je voudrais parler à Charlie Weasley."
She'd picked up the mechanics of the device relatively fast, seeing as Bill could see in her expression she was now listening intently. After a few seconds, she repeated her question again, but slower, mouthing to Bill after, "'E speaks only a bit of French, but 'e understands we are looking for Charlie."
"Is he there?"
She was nodding, but not at him, at the person on the phone. She was listening again for a long moment, and said something quickly in French to the man before telling Bill. "He iz trying to say Charlie was zere, but 'e may 'ave gone. 'E will check. I asked 'im to please hurry."
She suddenly made a strange face, something on the line having caught her attention. "Someone iz now saying I only 'ave one minute remaining. To please add more money? Who iz zis woman?"
"Bloody hell, that was quick," Bill muttered, pulling out more coins. "Did he go to see if Charlie is there?"
"Zere is no one talking, so I assume so," she said, gesturing to the receiver. "What will 'appen if we do not add more money?"
"I'm almost certain the connection will drop," Bill said, depositing coins and hoping to hold onto the call.
A minute passed. Another minute passed. No one had returned to the line and Bill was starting to panic. Charlie's dragon sanctuary was huge, Bill had seen it. If he even was there, and was on the opposite side, there was no way he could have been retrieved in time.
The operator's voice chimed in, "You have one minute remaining…"
He and Fleur exchanged looks. He didn't have any more money. The operator kept repeating the message; counting down. Thirty seconds, ten seconds…
Finally, "Your call has ended."
With a deafening sounding click, the line died.
Bill closed his eyes and thumped his head against the glass of the booth. That was incredibly frustrating. Worse yet, Charlie would get word that they called and have no idea what was happening; left in the dark. But there was nothing else they could do. Sending an owl would take hours, but apparently it was now their only option.
Fleur, who was still holding the receiver, went to set it back in place. She hadn't spoken a word, seemingly knowing they'd lost their chance without having to ask. She didn't seem to know what to say or do. If there was a spell that could fix this, neither of them knew it.
Bill pushed open the door. "We need to go—"
A loud ringing suddenly filled the booth, scaring both Bill and Fleur. She'd practically jumped out of her skin, asking, "What iz zat?" while Bill reached over her and picked up the receiver again.
"Hello?" he said, hoping with all hope that some sort of miracle had managed to connect him back to his brother again.
"Hello?" came a voice that was unmistakably Charlie's. "Dad? Bill? It's got to be one of you."
"Holy shit, Charlie," Bill said, clutching the receiver with both hands. "Yeah, it's me. I thought we'd lost you. I hate these Muggle telephones. How did you know how to find me?"
"Marius did it," Charlie said. "He hit a button and said it would ring the last person back. But that's beside the point. Are you ringing about the Ironbelly?"
Bill didn't immediately understand what he was saying. "The Ironbelly?"
"Yeah," Charlie said, and only then did Bill notice Charlie's tone was more curt sounding than usual. "I heard about that. All of us did. News in the dragon community travels fast." He paused. "I knew you were fucking lying to me."
"Sorry?"
"About there being a dragon at Gringotts. I knew it, and I knew you knew it—"
"Charlie," Bill said, taking an exhausted breath. He didn't have time for this. "Of all the bloody things you could say about it, why is being pissed off at me your immediate go to? What the fuck? You know Ron was on that dragon, right? Harry? Hermione?"
"Wait, what?" Charlie said, his voice rising. "Ron? Our Ron? The news I got only said thieves had used an Ironbelly to tear the roof off a bank in London in order to escape. That the dragon was now loose over the island and people were now on the lookout…for the dragon. In order to get it to safety. They were looking for resources to help track it."
"Do you only listen to dragon centric news? Do you have regular news, or…?"
"You're one to talk. You've got You-Know-Who controlled news," Charlie snapped back. "At least I can trust my sources." He exhaled heavily. "Why are we even talking about this? What's this about Ron? What happened?"
"Well, if you'd heard the full story, you'd have heard those thieves were Ron, Harry, and Hermione. They went to Gringotts to take something—don't ask me what, I don't know—and then you heard about the dragon escape—"
"So are they alright? Charlie said, and Bill could already picture his face. "Did something happen to them? Is that why you're contacting me?"
"They're alive," Bill said, glancing over at Fleur, who was listening in beside him. "Why I'm ringing you is because we got word that Harry's turned up at Hogwarts tonight. He and the others are apparently going to fight Snape and the Death Eaters out."
Charlie was quiet for a long moment, as if digesting that news. "So…they're starting a rebellion?"
"Hard to say, but…yeah. That's what it sounds like. The Order's going in as well. We can't expect a bunch of school kids to handle this on their own. We're getting the word out. We're planning on a fight."
More silence for a long moment. Charlie's voice was quiet when he spoke again. "You all know this is going to go beyond just Snape and whatever minions he's got posted up at the school? You-Know-Who will send everything he's got to stop you once he hears about it."
"Yeah," Bill said, also quiet. "We can count on it. I expect him to turn up, to be honest."
At that, Bill noticed Fleur's eyes go a bit wide with surprise, as if constantly being reminded of this sent an anxious pang through her. They'd fought before; got themselves into many conflicts, but this just felt different. There was a foreboding quality in people's level of concern. They were all gearing up for a fight, but something in the pit of Bill's stomach was telling him this would be so much more than anything they'd been through thus far. He'd been anticipating something like this to eventually occur—something big—and now here it was.
Charlie still hadn't spoken, so Bill chose to add, "We wanted to tell you so you were aware. I don't expect you can do too much from Romania, but if you think you can—"
"When's it happening?"
"Now."
"Right now?"
"I mean, I'm going to hang up this telephone, pop over to the Hog's Head Pub, meet with the others and see where it goes from there. But Harry's already at Hogwarts, so for all I know it's already started."
"Shit," Charlie said before Bill heard him then speaking Romanian to someone in the room with him. After a minute, he came back on the line and said, "I'll do what I can. It's going to take me a few hours, but…I'll do what I can."
"What are you going to do to get here in a few hours?" Bill asked. "Fly a dragon over?"
"As quick as that would be, that's a long flight and it's not as if I can just park one anywhere once I get there. There's loads of preparations needed for dragon transport."
"Well, you could, theoretically, bring it to fight," Bill suggested, sort of as a joke—and for Fleur's benefit since he wanted to prove his point from earlier. He was already well aware of Charlie's answer.
"Dragon's are not weapons," Charlie said very adamantly, causing Bill to smirk a little at Fleur. "Taking one into battle is irresponsible and could get them killed."
"I don't know. I would think dragons could hold their own…"
There was dead air on the line for several seconds before Charlie said, "You think? You think…? Are you trying to tell me—?"
"I just think one might be useful in the event of a full on battle breaking out," Bill offered, half joking, half…very serious. He knew his brother's stance, but at the same time…it's a dragon! A dragon!
However, he still knew that if Charlie was standing in front of him right now, he'd likely try to curse him.
"They are not weapons!" Charlie repeated more adamantly. "And fun fact, they would kill indiscriminately. Our guys and theirs! More than just Death Eaters would end up charred remains. They are of independent mind and highly intelligent creatures, even if you seem to think they're just big, dumb animals—"
"Charlie."
"—worthy of being chained in a bank prison for who knows how long, denying it to my face—""
"Charlie!" Bill shouted, throwing Fleur a look of frustration. Even on the brink of possible war, Charlie was letting his thoughts get hijacked by his life's passion. It was somewhat respectable, if not exactly what Bill expected from him. This was always Charlie the second the word dragon came up in most conversations—since he was six-years-old.
And he didn't know why, but a sudden flash of Charlie at that young age sprung into his mind. Him around the Burrow with his collection of toy dragons—talking to no one in particular about the differences between warmer climate dragons and cooler climate dragons.
Bill remembered it like it was yesterday—he'd been sitting at the same table. Percy was there too—he and their mother had been practicing his reading—though currently it was Bill who was trying to help him sound out a sentence in a children's book. That was because their very pregnant mother had needed to dash off once she realized the toddler-aged twins were being too quiet.
It turned out, they'd somehow got into finger paints and a wall in the sitting room was now streaked with blue. Charlie had been the one who was supposed to be keeping an eye on them during Percy's school time—playing dragons with them—but he'd apparently not liked the way the twins were handling his toys. He'd given them the paint instead to keep them busy. Not that Bill would tell his mother that.
Bill had no idea why this specific memory chose to pop into his head then, only that it was happy and it made him feel less anxious. He didn't want Charlie yelling at him right now about dragons because—what if this was the last time they ever spoke?
He realized it had been why he'd been so keen to make this phone call in the first place. After his mauling last year; after barely escaping Death Eaters when they'd moved Harry last summer; after the wedding ambush; after hearing about so many deaths, there was no reason to believe tonight would be any different. There was no reason to be confident that he, or anyone he loved, would make it out the other end.
"What?!" Charlie had snapped.
"I love you," said Bill. "I just need you to know that."
After yet another loaded silence, until Charlie finally said, "The…hell?" with his entire tone now sounding deflated and rather panicked. "What are you…? Why are you—?"
"You know why I am," he said. "Just in case."
"No. Fuck you. Don't talk like that. Don't talk like this is the—"
"Fleur says hi," Bill added, smiling at Fleur, who now had tears in her eyes. "But we need to go. Here's hoping this is all nothing and we'll talk again soon, alright? If you're going to try and join us, you'll need to get a move on,"
Fleur sniffled a little, but took a deep breath, calming breath. Charlie didn't immediately respond until Bill said, "Talk to you later, alright?"
"You bloody well better," Charlie said, and Bill could have sworn that tough—never showed his feelings ever—Charlie's voice cracked. "I'm fucking serious. You take care of yourself alright? Tell everyone else I love them and to be careful…" Another crack. "Fuck. I love you too. Please just stay alive."
"I'm going to try," Bill said, surprised by how upbeat he'd managed to make that sound. "I promise you that I'm going to try."
When they'd hung up, Bill felt an imposing feeling of dread and sadness now that all the 'what ifs' were starting to hit him. But none of that compared to the overwhelming fear he felt when he now looked at Fleur and her glassy eyes. It was hard enough putting his feelings and worries out there for Charlie, let alone her.
Because at least he didn't also have to worry about Charlie dying tonight—not unless he actually made it here in time. Fleur was walking straight into this with him.
"You zink it will be very bad," Fleur said to him as they stepped out of the phone booth and turned to each other. "If you were trying to make peace and say your goodbyes to Charlie, you must zink—"
"I wasn't saying goodbye," Bill said. "I was just making sure I said everything there is to say to him while I still had the chance to do it."
She nodded slowly. "Because you zink we may not—"
"I think there's a chance," he said, walking forward to wrap his arms around her. "And I think we should all say everything we need to say to each other in the event that happens."
She stared at him, the tears still present as she nodded matter-of-factly. "In zat case, I love you so much."
"I love you more than anything," he whispered back. "And if I die I will try my best to haunt you."
She usually scowled when he said that—she didn't like it—but this time he actually got a small, sad smile out of her. He wasn't sure what had changed, but she leaned her head onto his chest and quietly said, "You 'ad better."
