Chapter 21

Kingsley's lynx patronus arrived over a late breakfast. They'd both overslept, neither waking until almost ten and then not bothering to get out of bed for another half hour. Not until their morning lie-in was interrupted by the sounds of rambunctious little boys and a hungry cat pawing at their door did they drag themselves from bed and down the stairs.

Molly had made breakfast, keeping some under a stasis charm for them and they had hardly sat down to eat when the message appeared. Kingsley had been able to call the meeting for that night. Key Order members, including Dumbledore, would be present. Unfortunately that also meant his most ardent supporters.

Thinking about how the meeting might go, Hermione considered again whether they should say anything about Severus. "At some point we'll have to tell them about Severus. Pettigrew won't be there and Fabian is right, it will come out eventually."

Finishing his own plate and eyeing her half-eaten sausages and eggs, George nodded. "Yeah… right. Can't tell the rat anything. You gonna eat that, Hermione, or just push it around your plate while you think?"

"What?" She looked down at her plate and scoffed, pushing it towards him. "No, all yours. Honestly the men in your family." He grinned at her around a bite. "But seriously… What do you think we should tell them tonight? We might have to give them something. It won't be as if we can just ask for unbreakable vows from anyone who cares to know."

He frowned thoughtfully as he stared across the room between bites. "Well, I suppose it will mostly depend on what Dumbledore says—what kind of reason he comes up with as an excuse."

"That's true…" She rested her chin on her hand and watched him eat. "Still. We need to come up with something to tell them just in case."

"Hmm…" Finished, he stood and took their dishes to the sink and set them washing. After some thoughtful staring out the window, he turned around to face her. "Alright, how about this…"

Headquarters this time around turned out to be a country house provided by an Order member Hermione did not recognize. It was the opposite of Grimmauld in almost every way. Where the Black family home was filled with the lingering miasma of dark magic, this estate was airy and decorated in shades of creams and gold. It was filled with love and light. It was a strange contrast.

Five Order members, some she recognized and some she didn't, were waiting around the sitting room when they arrived. Moody was speaking in low tones to a young blonde man Hermione thought might have been Sturgis Podmore. Elphias Doge, a known Dumbledore sycophant, sat beside a man she didn't recognize questioning Kingsley who stood in beside them.

Hermione wanted to grumble when she saw the old man. He would be no help in the impending conversation but before she could think much more about it, Kingsley noticed them. Looking grave, he turned, holding his hand out for Arthur.

"Evening, Arthur. Dumbledore's running late but he should be here soon."

Before Arthur could do more than nod, Elphias was on his feet waving an accusatory finger at George and Hermione. "Who are they, Kingsley? What do you think you're about, hmm? Bringing strangers to headquarters behind Dumbledore's back! Why won't you tell us what this is about?"

Gideon and Fabian, having brought up the rear, now flanked their little group, Fabian attempting to pacify the old wizard. "Calm down Doge. They're with us. They're family. This here is our cousin George Prewett, and his lovely fiancé, Helen."

Elphias only glared at him. "Cousin you say? I've never seen either of them and I've known your family longer than you have."

Scoffing, Gideon crossed his arms. "Not so well as you thought, apparently. He's a Prewett as sure as I am."

"I doubt that very much. And besides, even if they are who you say they are, it's not up to you to bring in new people, Gideon. Nor yours Kingsley." Elphias looked between all of them expectantly. "This is Dumbledore's group, he's the only one allowed to bring in new people. How do you know they aren't spies? Eh? And now they're here at headquarters!"

The floo activated in a rush and Dumbledore finally stepped through. Waving his hand over his irritatingly flamboyant robes to banish the soot, he immediately zeroed in on the tension. "Elphias, do sit down." He smiled benevolently at Hermione and George. "I see you've finally decided to join the Order. You've decided you have something to fight for. Excellent."

Her own anger already beginning to boil over, Hermione barely managed to hold George back. "Are you joking?"

Dumbledore frowned in confusion as Arthur held up a hand to silence George. "We're not here to join the Order, Dumbledore. We're here because two days ago my home was attacked by four Death Eaters and a werewolf."

Moody interrupted, lumbering around the room until he stood beside Dumbledore. "Yes, we know. Kingsley and I were there. We've already told Dumbledore all that, Arthur. Death Eaters have been attacking the homes of blood traitors and muggleborns for years."

"You're right, Moody. You were there. Only, we never sent word to anyone in the Order or Dumbledore when we were attacked." Moody frowned but didn't interrupt again as some of the ever present twinkle began to fade from Dumbledore's eyes.

"And until recently, the Burrow had warding nearly as strong as Hogwarts. Specifically, Fabian had set up a ward to keep out anyone bearing the Dark Mark. Yet somehow, four marked murderers got into my home. Thankfully, my wife's brothers, their cousin and his fiancé were over for lunch or Greyback would have murdered all five of my children."

"Which is why…" Dumbledore held up a hand and stared at Hermione, the tendrils of his mind feeling in vain around the edges of her shields. "I can't understand why the pair of them refuse to join the Order. They've clearly seen what we're up against here, and they have found family… reasons to fight."

Not backing down, Arthur took a step into Dumbledore's space. "We're not here to discuss their lack of interest in working for you, Dumbledore. I'm here because I want to know why my wards were disabled and violated within days of your rather strange visit. I'm here because I want to know why there was a trigger alarm attached to the disabled Dark Mark ward. I'm here because I want to know how you knew about the attack and yet waited nearly an hour after the Death Eaters crossed onto my property to send anyone. I'm here, Dumbledore, because I want to know what you thought was so Merlin-damned important that you were willing to risk my family!"

Elphias Doge, red with outrage, leapt between Dumbledore and Arthur. "You dare accuse Dumbledore! Have you gone mad Weasley? Your family was attacked because everyone knows your family's politics. That's it. Perhaps one of these suspicious new 'family members' are responsible for the collapse of your wards."

Dumbledore opened his mouth to say something but Arthur cut him off, glaring down at Elphias. "I have no doubts as to the identity of George and Helen. George is as much my family as Gideon and Fabian are. And considering how very close he came to death defending my wife and children from Greyback, I sincerely doubt his fiancé would have tampered with our wards. She loves my children like family and I have no reason to doubt her."

"Now Arthur…" Dumbledore held up a hand placatingly, clearly genuinely attempting to diffuse the situation. "I know what they told us and I do understand how familial magic works, but I've looked into their story and found it terribly riddled with holes. I'm disturbed you seem so quick to lay blame at my feet rather than the new strangers you've welcomed into your life."

Looking conflicted, Moody waded into the heated conversation. "Honestly Dumbledore, I've been wondering about that night myself. You know I'd never doubt you… so I'm sure you must have had a reason but… How did you know to send us? Unless Arthur's lying about none of them sending word for help. If he had, surely he'd have done so right away, not waited until it was all over."

He looked between Hermione and George, the small frown deepening. "And I saw the lad after, Dumbledore. That werewolf nearly tore him in half by the look of the scarring. Proper impressive they managed to save him. Can't see his lass inviting that kind of damage by taking down their wards. Why would they fight if they wanted the Death Eaters there? Can't reason it. Kings said he was over yesterday, checked their wards himself. Alarm charm is there, just like they claim."

Shocked that Moody, out of anyone, had been the one to press Dumbledore, Hermione waited for some kind of answer. Naturally, it was not immediately forthcoming. The grandfatherly facade had dropped completely as he looked between them, cold calculation the only thing behind his half-moon glasses. Elphias scolded Moody for daring to question the man, but he ignored it as he too waited for an answer.

"Everything I've ever done, ethical or otherwise, has been for the greater good." He glared openly at her and George. "If only you had capitulated. I tried to make you understand how badly the Order needed you but you refused to cooperate."

It seemed as though all the air had been sucked from the room. Hermione had already known what he'd done, but to hear him admit it so easily broke what little faith she had left in the man. Beside her, George—shaking with rage—bit out what they were both thinking between gritted teeth.

"Why? What's so bloody special about us that you'd let all of them die?"

Glare lightening with a hint of cruel curiosity, Dumbledore cocked his head ever so slightly to the side. "That's exactly what I've been trying to understand since you arrived. What is it about the pair of you? What knowledge of the Dark Lord could two strangers from the continent have that I would possibly be ignorant of? What powers over life and death could any so mundane-seeming witch or wizard possess?" He took a step in their direction, fists held out in frustrated supplication as his voice rose. "What threat could either of you pose to Voldemort or myself?"

Hermione and George both drew their wands as icy dread coiled around her like a vice. The way he spoke, the words he'd used, the terrifying desperation to know what they did… it couldn't be. It was too soon.

They had changed everything.

As chaos briefly ensued around them—both Gideon and Fabian drawing their own wands and blocking them from Dumbledore, Order members confused and unsure how to act—it was all Hermione could do to blindly reach for George as panic threatened.

There must have been a new prophecy. Memories of the devastation the last prophecy had wrought, and how different everything might have been had no one taken it seriously consumed her. If there had been another… if it was about them… Knowing how hard Dumbledore had worked to fulfill the prophecy he and Voldemort had decided concerned Harry, everything he'd done to sway them suddenly made sense.

George turned to her, his own fury softening as he took in the panic that must have been evident on her face. Evidently assuming that Dumbledore wouldn't attack them outright with so many witnesses and trusting the moment of chaos to his father and uncles, George brought the hand not clinging to his wand to cup her cheek. "What is it? You've just realized something… what's wrong?"

Taking strength knowing they were there together, that he was beside her, Hermione took a calming breath and leaned into his touch. They might have changed everything, but this wouldn't change anything. They'd already decided and acted to change the future, their commitment to that change wouldn't be swayed by some prophecy.

Still. It had obviously consumed Dumbledore's plans. If they could get it out of him, she wanted to hear it. Swallowing thickly, she turned back to face Dumbledore. "What did it say? What was the wording, exactly?"

Realizing that most of the eyes in the room were turned on him with varying degrees of anger or confusion, Dumbledore feigned shock as he tried to backtrack.

"I don't know what you think you're talking about."

"No." Arthur took another step closer to the much more powerful wizard, both Gideon and Fabian putting a hand on his shoulders to hold him back, though they both looked ready to start firing curses themselves. "No, Dumbledore you'll not get away with playing dumb. What are you hiding? You would have happily let my family be slaughtered, you're going to tell me what's going on. Answer her question."

"Calm down Arthur, Dumbledore doesn't have to tell her anything…"

Kingsley glowered down at Elphias. "Do shut up Doge. I'd like to hear this too. We're fighting this war against family murdering monsters, not for them. Arthur is owed an answer."

Voice low and hard, Dumbledore sighed as though he were the most put upon man in the world. Hermione wanted to hex him. "There was a prophecy…"

"What? A prophecy? You… you tried to have my family killed over a bloody prophecy?"

For a few heartbeats the chaos broke free again. Arthur drew his wand on Dumbledore, George right beside him. Hermione swore before she and both of the twins, wands already out, followed suit. The Order members, with the exception of Doge, were still unsure where to point theirs but it was Dumbledore that settled things.

He didn't even draw his wand.

"Put your wands away. This is not a fight you can win Arthur, not even with your family behind you and you know it. I'm glad you survived the attack. Truly. My only regret is that it did not have the result I had planned for." His eyes slid from Arthur's wand, still pointed at his face, to Hermione and George. "It is most unfortunate. It is about the two of you, the prophecy. That's why I've been working so hard to convince you to join the Order. There is no circumstance that I can foresee where we are victorious without you."

Not willing to allow him to dodge, Hermione reiterated her earlier question. "What is the prophecy? What did it say, specifically? Did it mention us by name?"

"Prophecies are never so precise…"

"Then how can you possibly know it is about us? Don't you realize that prophecies only have the meaning and power that you give them? I'll ask again, what did it say, precisely?"

He scanned the room. Everyone was standing and watching him expectantly, even Doge, all wanting to hear his answer. But Hermione, all too familiar with his reluctance to share information, could practically hear him calculating his best option. There were more people in the room than had ever heard the prophecy about Harry in either war. While she didn't want it getting back to Voldemort either, forcing Dumbledore's hand felt right.

"How could I possibly trust such sensitive information to you when you're not even members of the Order?"

Hermione smirked. "Nice try. You're the one that seems to want our cooperation so badly. We don't need you, Dumbledore."

Crossing his arms and seeming to understand where she was going, George sounded much more in control when he finally chimed in. "Besides, if it's about us like you think, I'm sure we could get access to the hall of prophecies if we asked the right people. Not that we really need the prophecy. We know what we're about, isn't that right, love?"

She shrugged. "I can't see how it would change our plans." They both stowed their wands and, taking his hand, Hermione turned a sad smile on Arthur. "Well, he's admitted it, Arthur. I'm so sorry it does seem it was because of us as we thought. Perhaps it would be best if we went back to France after all. At least then you won't have to worry about being attacked from two sides anymore, though you would all be welcome to stay with us like we mentioned."

Arthur sighed and clapped a hand on George's shoulder. "Of course I don't blame either of you." He glanced up at a shell shocked Kingsley. "Thank you for doing this Kings. I… well I guess I'm glad to know at least most of the truth. But Helen's right. I think it's time I took my family on an extended holiday. Good luck to you."

With matching looks of disgust for a confused and angry looking Dumbledore, Gideon and Fabian started to follow them out. They ignored the shocked grumbling from around the room as they headed toward the floo, Moody the loudest as he admonished Dumbledore for the loss of so many people. Whatever happened next, they had the upper hand.

Just as she reached for the jar of floo powder, everything fell silent. The cool feel of magic whispered over her skin as Dumbledore cast some kind of privacy spell around the three of them. After heaving a sigh, he finally spoke again.

"I have studied the prophecy extensively. It is about the pair of you. There is no one else it could be referring to. 'Two with the knowledge to defeat the Dark Lord…' Whatever knowledge you're keeping from me, whatever plans you have that you refuse to share, may be the key to defeating the Dark Lord. I don't yet understand it in full—burning souls and future heroes, it is ominous and dark—but I will."

Hermione froze, her hand hovering over the jar as she rapidly thought through his words. To her, knowing what she did and what they were doing, the tidbits he'd reluctantly shared made sense. She did not believe in divination, but it was somewhat reassuring to know whatever or whomever it was that provided 'real' prophecies seemed to think they might at least make a difference.

Pivoting around, she frowned at him in feigned confusion. "That does sound grave. Burning souls?" She forced a shudder. "But… I'm not sure how our little shield hat business could possibly destroy the Dark Lord."

Dumbledore's face twisted in rage. "What knowledge do you have? What are you keeping from me? Don't you see how important you are?"

Glowering right back, George reached around her for a handful of floo powder before responding. "Doesn't sound like us at all, Dumbledore. Not that you've really explained it fully. Guess you've got it wrong. Hope your gamble was worth it."