August, 1997

"Something's happening," Corrie hissed in Andrew's ear as she pulled him down the relatively untread hall that led to the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Office. Once there, she shut the door behind them, casting a few locking charms before turning to Andrew. Seeing Corrie, usually put together, in such a state of distress gave Andrew a sinking feeling. She wasn't one to raise a false alarm—if Corrie said something was happening, chances were high that it was.

"I was supposed to go to France today," she told him. "It's a pretty routine assignment for newer members of the office, once we're ready to travel in official capacity instead of just as a shadow. But I was recalled."

"Well, that could be anything—maybe something came up—"

"No," she said, shaking her head, twisting her robes in her hands. "It might have been, if it had been Greengrass doing the recalling. He's Head of Department, he'd have a reason to. But it wasn't. It was your head. And it wasn't just me, either. Almost everyone's been called back—from Russia, Bulgaria, France, Germany, all of them."

"What—on Thicknesse's order?" Andrew asked, trying to wrap his mind around the fact. "Does he even have the clearance for that? And why is everyone listening?"

"Because Greengrass is behind him, backing up his orders. We can't go around disobeying him, even if we do think Thicknesse isn't making any sense."

"But what does that mean? I mean, what's the point of recalling all of you?"

"It cuts us off. Aside from a few holdouts who sent messages saying their work was entirely too important to leave, the British Ministry is effectively standing alone in the world. It's vulnerable."

"So you think," Andrew said, trying to process what Corrie was saying, "You think that this is the plan that Jake's dad has been making? Getting the Ministry isolated so that they can what…take it over or something?"

"I don't know," Corrie admitted, "but I think—maybe. It would be a good plan." Andrew ran a hand over his hair, trying to calm his racing heart. It's just a guess, he reminded himself, there's no real confirmation of it.

"We'll have the weekend, at least, to figure it out," he said, hoping he sounded reassuring. "It's Friday, and it's almost the end of the day, we can do something over the weekend, let the others know—the Order too, this is right up their alley."

"We need to get Jake out," Corrie said to him, sounding firm for the first time. "They let him hear too much, but they obviously don't trust him, not really. Whatever's coming, he's not going to be safe at his house. We should have gotten him out before." She looked furious with herself for not doing so.

"It'll be okay," Andrew promised. "I was off just when you grabbed me—I can grab Rissa and have her help me get him. I've only got a couch, but he can stay with me short-term, at least."

"I'm coming," Corrie said. "Just in case. I haven't got anything to do anyway, if I'm not in France." Andrew hesitated, and she must have read his uncertainty on his face. "I'm not trying to go in. I'll stay outside with you, unless intervention becomes necessary. The worst that'll happen is I'll get a reprimand at work tomorrow for leaving early—please, Andrew."

Andrew paused. Having another person would be helpful, but he was also entirely aware of the blood wards which had been on his own house growing up, stopping anyone who hadn't been directly invited in from coming. Andrew and Rissa had been to the Urquhart's house, though not recently. Corrie hadn't, and if there were wards that stopped her, even if they weren't harmful themselves, he doubted that either Trina or Mars Urquhart would take kindly to a Muggleborn stopping in.

"Fine," he said, finally, "But you're not going in—if absolutely necessary, you can try to take down some of the weaker wards or something. Rissa should be off, she had the night and early morning shift today." Corrie nodded, her face set.

"Then let's go."

/

"Hello, Mrs. Urquhart. I'm here to visit Jacob, if that's alright."

Nerissa's voice, sweeter than her usual tone, drifted out to the gate where Andrew and Corrie crouched, disillusioned.

"To see Jacob? He didn't tell me he had plans for friends to come over."

"It may have slipped his mind—he was in a bit of a rush to get to work when we made the plans, and he must be simply drowning in wand orders with Ollivander's closed, even if he is just beginning his apprenticeship. You all must be very proud of him," she said, keeping her tone light as she lied through her teeth.

"Yes, of course. And he's been very tired recently. I'll tell him you dropped by, but perhaps it would be better if you rescheduled your little meet up." There was no question in Trina Urquhart's voice, only finality.

Plan B, then, Andrew thought, putting a hand on Corrie's arm to remind her to stay in place. Rissa's continued pleasantries—now tinged with concern for Jake, hoping he wasn't ill and bemoaning the fact that he was being overworked—floated past his ears as he made his way around the house, creeping across the lawn and pushing the back patio doors open, hoping that Mars and Liam were somewhere far away, and that he remembered the right room for Jake from the one time he'd been beyond the spaces in which the Urquharts entertained guests.

Making it up the stairs, he heard voices, and froze momentarily.

"You mustn't be skipping the luncheon," a throaty voice declared firmly, its demand answered by a more familiar voice.

"I have better things to do on weekends than attend mum's parties—I went last week, and the week before. I'm not going this time."

"You is not being a very good son," the first voice came, disapproval ringing in it.

"I really don't care," the second said, and Andrew was surprised by the bitterness in Jake Urquhart's voice. A crack came from the room, and Andrew waited a moment before pushing open the door and quickly closing it behind him, glad to be out of the exposed hallway. Jake spun around.

"Who's—Andrew?" He asked as Andrew removed his disillusionment charm, sounding confused. "What are you doing here?"

"Helping you not be a very good son, apparently," Andrew said, pulling out the bag he had carried in. "Something's up—maybe that thing you warned us about. We've told the others, just in case, but Corrie thought we should make sure you're out of here first."

"I—" Jake started, and Andrew cut off the argument he saw coming.

"Listen, mate, if something really is happening, and if it really is the Death Eaters, this place isn't going to be safe. They know you were in the forest with us, they know you fought them, and you do not want them to also know where to find you when they decide to take action." He paused, then added, "besides, if your mum's luncheons are anything like my mum's, it'll just be better to get out anyway."

"I know," Jake said, brushing off Andrew's words. "I was saying—" he said, drawing out the word "—that I don't need your bag. Accio pack." A small bag flew off the shelf and into Jake's hand. "Everything I need is here, except for my wand," he said, waving the stick to signify that he had that, too. "Do you have a plan for getting out? Because mum's had the house elves watching for me at all the entrances to the house, so I don't think chances of us just strolling out are high, even disilllusioned."

"I got in," Andrew argued, and Jake shook his head.

"That's because they knew Mel was talking to me. You got lucky," he said, shaking his head.

"Oh," Andrew said, trying not to sound concerned about that fact. "That's good, then. Would've been worse to have to try and get you if I'd been caught on the way in. I guess we go with Plan C."

"You're already on Plan B?" Jake asked, looking unimpressed.

"Jack wasn't around to help with the planning," Andrew informed him, "So we're stuck with my ideas."

"And Plan C is…"

"You've got your broom, right?"

"Yeah—but it'll only hold me at the speed we'd need to not be seen."

"Well," Andrew said, "Plan D involves Corrie, Rissa, and a minor explosion, so I think we'll stick with it. Don't worry about me—I'll make it out."

"Explos—okay, fine. Accio Broom," he said, and a broomstick flew out of his pack.

"Corrie and Rissa are waiting down by the gate—tell them I said to leave, and that I'll meet you all at my place. And here—" he tapped Jake's head and disillusioned him. "Fly fast," he said.

"Don't get caught," Jake returned, and opened the window, hovering in his room for a moment before speeding out toward the gate. Andrew heard a shout from downstairs and footsteps—Trina, he guessed—made their way to the door of Jake's bedroom. Concentrating, he squeezed his eyes tightly shut, feeling his body shift downwards.

All Trina Urquhart found when she arrived in her son's room was emptiness, and the sight of a common merlin, flying toward the forest behind the house.

/

"He should have gotten back by now," Rissa said, biting her lip. "He should have seen the message."

"We know," Corrie said, her voice tight. Marietta didn't look at them, just continued staring out the window, pacing back and forth in front of it, watching the street.

"He shouldn't have tried to get me."

"It isn't your fault, Jake, so stop blaming yourself. I'm sure he's not trapped in your house—"

"Shut up, all of you," Marietta said suddenly. "I think—I was fairly sure I saw something just now, give it a moment." Everyone fell silent, and after an extended pause, the door opened and closed, and an exhausted looking Andrew Fawley appeared.

"Why," he asked, "did I have to come here on foot and disillusioned?"

"It happened," Corrie said. "The ministry…we don't know much, but Cedric was there, and he told us to stay here. Jack and Katie are off getting the others—Angie's with her team, and Lee's off with family somewhere. Patty's on her way."

Andrew was frozen, looking as though someone had stolen his ability to move. Marietta had felt the same: no matter how much they talked about being a Guard or how they may have to defend the Wizarding World, or asked "what-ifs" about the Ministry, she had never really processed that it might happen.

"Kim and Alicia are still at the Ministry too," Rissa cut in. "We haven't heard from them. And…Gil is there, too. Cedric was going to try to get him out first, because with the Death Eaters…" she stopped short. None of them wanted to think about the potential fate of a Muggleborn who worked in the Muggle Liaison Office in a Ministry controlled by Death Eaters.

"And the twins?" Andrew managed, his voice sounding dry. They all knew that, if Corrie and Gil were the most at-risk as Muggleborns, the Weasleys—known blood traitors and housing Harry Potter—were close behind.

"We haven't heard anything," Corrie told him, and Andrew closed his eyes as though saying a prayer.

"Right," he said, and then took a deep breath, his exhausted demeanor seeming to be sucked away with the inhale. "Is there any way to contact the others that are outside the Ministry—Jack, Katie, that lot? I mean, you must have talked to them somehow, right?"

"Barely," Marietta admitted. "Rissa was able to do that Patronus thing the twins showed us, the one the Order uses. It took a while, but she could probably do it again." She turned to Nerissa with a questioning look, and the other girl nodded.

"I think I could manage it, but I can't guarantee speed."

"That's fine. It's only—I know Cedric said not to move, but your apartment is one of the least protected—no offense," he added, glancing at Marietta. "It's right in Diagon Alley, and there's Floo access, which makes it easy for the Ministry to enter and cut off. Besides, it's across from the Weasleys, which makes it a target. My apartment is smaller, but—"

"No," Jake cut him off. "They'll be looking for you, Andrew—or, at least, I think they will. I overheard a conversation about Azkaban, and…I know I should have told you, but—"

"You thought my dear old dad might be a bit of a touchy point?" Andrew asked, and shrugged at Jake's nod. "Don't worry about it. I guess my place is out, then. And we obviously can't go to Jake's house, or Corrie or Gil's places."

"So…we stay here?" Marietta asked. "Block the floo?"

"No," Rissa cut in. "We can go to my family's house in north London. My Mum and Dad are off visiting my Aunt in France, and even if they do come back, it'll be to the country house. We're off the official network, so the Floo's only authorized for outgoing calls—plus, it's well warded. It isn't a long term solution," she admitted, "but it's better than anything else we've got."

Andrew looked at Rissa uncertainly, then nodded.

"Right—better get on that Patronus casting, then."

/

All safe, but the Ministry is watching, so don't try to contact us unless we give the go-ahead.

Fred's voice came from the fox in a whisper, the creature disappearing in a wisp of smoke as soon as the message had been delivered.

"Only two unaccounted for, then," Jack said, clearly trying to keep everyone's spirits up.

"Found the tea!" Patty called from the kitchen at nearly the same moment. "But I'm not making it for you all if someone doesn't come in here and help me with the mugs."

Alicia and Katie shot up from their seats next to Angelina, who had her head in her hands. Marietta understood their need to do something—anything—to keep the worry away.

"That is good news," she said, giving Jack a forced smile. He returned it, looking strained.

"I might go check around," Andrew said, his tone casual, voice so even it felt as though he was measuring the emphasis he put on each word. "Go to my place, and yours, Edgecombe, and stop by Cedric and Gil's, just to check for them. Maybe a few other places."

"What other places?" Jack asked, looking at his friend with suspicion in his eyes.

"Dunno—just looking around. I figure they may not know how to get here, or maybe even be able to get here. I shouldn't be too long," he finished, standing and grabbing his uniform coat as he did. Marietta gave him a moment's head start, then followed him to the front door.

"Fawley—Andrew," she snapped, when he didn't turn. He raised his eyebrows at her tone, but she didn't back down. "It isn't safe for you to go to the Ministry—I mean, it's not safe for any of us, but especially not for you."

"Who said anything about the Ministry?" He asked, but dropped his innocent expression when it was clear Marietta wasn't buying it. "Listen, I know you're all concerned, and I appreciate it. But even if they did break my father out of Azkaban, he won't be in a state to do me any harm. And anyway, that isn't the point. The point is that we don't know if they've done anything with Azkaban at all yet, just like we don't know if Cedric and Gil are at the Ministry or at their place or trying to lay low somewhere. We don't even really know what happened at the Ministry, because whatever it was, it didn't happen in the Department of Magical Transportation or the Law Office."

"We know that Scrimgeour is dead," Marietta pushed back. "Isn't that bad enough?"

"If it's worse, I don't want to find out by surprise," Andrew argued. "If the Death Eaters really did take over, and if they did release my Father, I'll have to hide out somewhere anyway, and I'm confident that I'll be able to get away from them if they find me out when I go in there. We don't know what will happen with you all, so it's better that you stay here and not get more involved."

"I don't like it," was all Marietta could think of as an argument. "It's too risky."

"It's ambitious," Andrew corrected her with a grin, then opened the door and stepped on the porch, disapparating with a crack.