A/N: I do not own any character references by JK Rowling in the Harry Potter series or agree with her comments. This story is a product of my pure imagination. I do not profit from this and will not pay for any commissions for art about this story.
I'm a little damaged
But damn, you saw the good
When everyone saw baggage
You loved when no one could
Laying in this bed beside you
I don't have to hide away
You see all the wreckage
And it wrecks me that you stay
When I get lost in my own head
You always tell me the truth
And girl, you find me right where I am
You're the one thing I can't lose
Baby, you're my hero
I ain't scared to say that out loud
You're teaching me to trust again
Erasing all my doubts, yeah
~Wreckage by Nate Smith
~*~ 26th July 1997 ~*~
Hermione appeared with a quiet crack at the end of Privet Drive, checking her body in the streetlights with swollen eyes to make sure she hadn't splinched herself. Clutched in one hand was her beaded bag, which held what was left of her entire life. With her other hand, she swiped the tears from her eyes as she walked toward Number Four, trembling.
Only a few houses had their lights on as she passed by. Luckily, all the lights at Number Four, but one, were off. The Dursleys were thankfully asleep. Circling to the back door, she raised her hand and whispered a spell under her breath, closing her eyes in a whispered prayer as the lock gave way with a soft click. All summer, she had been practicing simple wandless spells in case they started tracking wands.
Inside was dark, but after her frequent visits over the last four weeks, the house felt familiar to her in the dark. Creeping up the stairs, she winced as she misjudged the middle stair, which groaned. Snores echoed through the house from behind closed doors, and no other noise indicated that anyone had heard her. She barely dared to breathe as she continued to the top and made her way to the smallest bedroom.
Turning the knob slowly, she eased the door open. Peeking inside, she saw Harry lying in bed, propped up against the headboard, and with a slight smile, she saw he was reading Hogwarts: A History. His head turned to the door as he reached for his wand before realizing it was her. He smiled as he set the book down.
"Hermione, I thought I wouldn't be seeing you until the Burrow," he whispered, sitting up straighter.
She stepped in and quietly closed the door behind her, casting a silencing charm with a wave of her hand. Her shoes came off with two soft thuds, and she climbed onto the end of his bed like it was second nature, which it had become.
Hermione finally spoke, her voice hoarse, "I have nowhere else to go."
Harry frowned. "What happened?"
Bowing her head, she whispered, "I did it, Harry."
Sitting up fully, he ran his hand through his messy hair. "Shite, you obliviated your parents?"
She shook her head. "No, I researched for weeks. I found a spell, an old one that was nearly forgotten, and supposedly reversible. It didn't just erase a moment, it erased my existence. From their memories. From their lives." Her eyes met his. "They think they are new people. They sold their practice, took the money, and flew to Australia this afternoon. I waited until they were gone safely, then I locked up the empty house and came here."
Harry reached for her, and she collapsed into his arms, shaking with sobs.
"I did it to keep them safe," she whispered into his chest. "They'll live after this. That alone is worth it. And if I…" she trailed off, "If things don't work out, they'll suddenly remember everything in Australia so they can choose to return."
"I'm so sorry, Hermione," Harry mumbled as his cheek rested against her hair. "I wish you didn't have to do this."
He gently guided her to lie beside him, wrapping his arms around her. Curling into his body, she let the warmth coming from him and his heartbeat soothe her. "Stay with me tonight," he stated softly.
Hermione nodded. "I have to leave early for the Burrow. They have a plan to come to get you."
Harry brushed her hair back. "Just rest."
~*~ 27th July 1997 ~*~
Hermione looked up as the streetlamp buzzed overhead to see bugs flying around the amber light that cast over their disillusioned group assembled at the park in Little Whinging, at the end of Privet Drive.
"You okay?" Ron whispered next to her as Moody barked out last-minute instructions to them.
Hermione crossed her arms. "Just tired."
"Don't break formation," Moody growled, looking at them all, his magical eye spinning wildly, taking in the whole area. "Don't be seen. Circle back if anything seems off. If you get separated, double back to the fallback point. Right here."
The park was quiet, nothing but an occasional gust of wind through the trees and the creak of the swings rocking in the breeze.
Hermione let out a sigh. "The woman at number eleven is nosy," she said, pulling her hair back and starting to braid it, "But she's not home Saturday nights. Mrs. Figg knows we're coming, and Petunia is the only other busybody on the street, and she's gone. None of the other neighbors will even notice we're there. Can we just go?"
Moody turned toward her with his real eye narrowed, "Granger, have you been here before?"
Hermione looked at him defiantly. "Many times, and no one noticed."
Without waiting for a response, she turned and started walking. She heard the footsteps of the others behind her as Ron caught up to her.
"What do you mean you've been here before?" he asked.
Hermione didn't look at him. Her eyes were locked on number four. "Harry watched Cedric die in front of him, the Ministry tried to discredit him, and they just… sent him back here. Alone. To this place, where he was neglected, mistreated, and locked in his bedroom like a prisoner. Even you said so," she told him. "So, I came and checked on him whenever I could. He needed someone." Ron was silent as he followed her down the sidewalk. "Then he saw Dumbledore murdered, and he still came back here. Letters aren't enough, Ron. They never were. So, I made sure he wasn't alone."
The heavy silence between them was broken by the thudding of Moody stomping ahead, taking the lead as Number Four came into full view.
Ron broke the silence, "I didn't know. I didn't…think."
"No, you didn't," Hermione said, trying to keep her voice from trembling.
The house was dark and still under the streetlights as they approached the sidewalk juncture leading up to the front door.
The senior wizards raised their wands and checked the protection spells.
"Protective spells are intact, Alastor," Professor Lupin stated.
"Enter through the back door," Hermione suggested.
"Smart Granger," Moody said as they all walked around the house. "I will cancel the disillusionment when I am sure we weren't followed."
Hermione looked up as a roaring sound made her cover her ears, and above the house, two houses away, Hagrid appeared on a small motorbike.
"Good Hagrid is here, just on schedule," Moody stated as Hagrid landed in the backyard and dismounted, "All right, disillusioning in 3…2…"
The cool, wet feeling all over her body disappeared as Hermione spotted Harry in the back window. Looking around, she saw brooms in the hands of most of the wizards, and Bill had two thestrals supposedly. Thankfully, none that she could see.
The back door flung open, and Hermione's legs moved on their own accord as she ran to him and threw her arms around him.
Hagrid came up next to them as Ron patted Harry's shoulder, and said, "All righ', Harry? Ready fer the off?"
"Definitely," said Harry, smiling as he took in everyone. "But I wasn't expecting this many of you!"
"Change of plan," growled Mad-Eye, who was holding two enormous, bulging sacks, and whose magical eye was spinning from darkening sky to house to garden with dizzying rapidity. "Let's get undercover before we talk you through it."
Harry led them all back into the kitchen where, laughing and chattering, they settled on chairs, sat themselves upon wherever they could or leaned against the appliances.
Ron, herself, Fred and George, Bill, Mr. Weasley, Mad-Eye, Tonks, Lupin, Fleur, Kingsley, Hagrid, and Mundungus Fletcher all barely fit in the tiny kitchen and dining room.
"Kingsley, I thought you were looking after the Muggle Prime Minister?" he called across the room as Hermione leaned next to him.
"He can get along without me for one night," said Kingsley. "You're more important."
"Harry, guess what?" said Tonks from her perch on top of the washing machine, and she wiggled her left hand at him; a ring glittered there.
Hermione gasped, seeing the ring on her finger.
"You got married?" Harry yelped, looking from her to Lupin.
"I'm sorry you couldn't be there, Harry. It was very quiet." Lupin stated.
"That's brilliant, congrat —" Harry stated as Moody interrupted him.
"All right, all right, we'll have time for a cozy catch-up later!" roared Moody over the hubbub, and silence fell in the kitchen.
Moody dropped his sacks at his feet and turned to Harry. "As Dedalus probably told you, we had to abandon Plan A. Pius Thicknesse has gone over, which gives us a big problem. He's made it an imprisonable offense to connect this house to the Floo Network, place a Portkey here, or Apparate in or out. All done in the name of your protection, to prevent You-Know-Who getting in at you. Absolutely pointless, seeing as your mother's charm does that already. What he's really done is to stop you getting out of here safely. Second problem: You're underage, which means you've still got the Trace on you."
Harry frowned. "I don't —"
"The Trace, the Trace!" said Mad-Eye impatiently. "The charm that detects magical activity around under-seventeens, the way the Ministry finds out about underage magic! If you, or anyone around you, casts a spell to get you out of here, Thicknesse is going to know about it, and so will the Death Eaters. We can't wait for the Trace to break, because the moment you turn seventeen you'll lose all the protection your mother gave you. In short: Pius Thicknesse thinks he's got you cornered good and proper."
Hermione frowned, realizing that she had done wandless spells all month without anyone being alerted.
"So, what are we going to do?" Harry asked.
"We're going to use the only means of transport left to us, the only ones the Trace can't detect, because we don't need to cast spells to use them: brooms, thestrals, and Hagrid's motorbike." Moody stated.
"Now, your mother's charm will only break under two conditions: when you come of age, or" — Moody gestured around the pristine kitchen — "you no longer call this place home. You and your aunt and uncle are going your separate ways tonight, in the full understanding that you're never going to live together again, correct?"
Harry nodded.
"So, this time, when you leave, there'll be no going back, and the charm will break the moment you get outside its range. We're choosing to break it early, because the alternative is waiting for You-Know-Who to come and seize you the moment you turn seventeen. The one thing we've got on our side is that You-Know-Who doesn't know we're moving you tonight. We've leaked a fake trail to the Ministry: They think you're not leaving until the thirtieth. However, this is You-Know-Who we're dealing with, so we can't just rely on him getting the date wrong; he's bound to have a couple of Death Eaters patrolling the skies in this general area, just in case. So, we've given a dozen different houses every protection we can throw at them. They all look like they could be the place we're going to hide you, they've all got some connection with the Order: my house, Kingsley's place, Molly's Auntie Muriel's — you get the idea."
"Yeah," said Harry.
"You'll be going to Tonks's parents. Once you're within the boundaries of the protective enchantments we've put on their house, you'll be able to use a Portkey to the Burrow. Any questions?" Moody asked.
"Er — yes," said Harry. "Maybe they won't know which of the twelve secure houses I'm heading for at first, but won't it be sort of obvious once," Harry looked around. "Fourteen of us fly off toward Tonks's parents'?"
Hermione moved closer to him, knowing the reaction that was about to come.
"Ah," said Moody, "I forgot to mention the key point. Fourteen of us won't be flying to Tonks' parents'. There will be seven Harry Potters moving through the skies tonight, each of them with a companion, each pair heading for a different safe house."
From inside his cloak, Moody now withdrew a flask of what looked like mud.
"No!" he said loudly, his voice ringing through the kitchen. "No way!"
"I told them you'd take it like this," said Hermione with a hint of complacency.
"If you think I'm going to let six people risk their lives — !" Harry yelled.
"— because it's the first time for all of us," said Ron.
"This is different, pretending to be me —" Harry defended.
"Well, none of us really fancy it, Harry," said Fred earnestly. "Imagine if something went wrong and we were stuck as specky, scrawny gits forever."
Harry did not smile. "You can't do it if I don't cooperate, you need me to give you some hair."
"Well, that's that plan scuppered," said George. "Obviously, there's no chance at all of us getting a bit of your hair unless you cooperate."
"Yeah, thirteen of us against one bloke who's not allowed to use magic; we've got no chance," said Fred.
"Funny," said Harry, "really amusing."
"If it has to come to force, then it will," growled Moody, his magical eye now quivering a little in its socket as he glared at Harry. "Everyone here's overage, Potter, and they're all prepared to take the risk."
Mundungus shrugged and grimaced; the magical eye swerved sideways to glare at him out of the side of Moody's head.
"Let's have no more arguments. Time's wearing on. I want a few of your hairs, boy, now." Moody stated.
Hermione watched Harry steel himself. "But this is mad, there's no need —"
"No need!" snarled Moody. "With You-Know-Who out there and half the Ministry on his side? Potter, if we're lucky he'll have swallowed the fake bait and he'll be planning to ambush you on the thirtieth, but he'd be mad not to have a Death Eater or two keeping an eye out, it's what I'd do. They might not be able to get at you or this house while your mother's charm holds, but it's about to break and they know the rough position of the place. Our only chance is to use decoys. Even You-Know-Who can't split himself into seven."
Harry caught Hermione's eye and looked away at once.
"So, Potter — some of your hair, if you please."
Harry glanced at Ron.
"Now!" barked Moody.
With all of their eyes upon him, Harry reached up to the top of his head, grabbed a hank of hair, and pulled.
"Good," said Moody, limping forward as he pulled the stopper out of the flask of potion. "Straight in here, if you please."
Harry dropped the hair into the mudlike liquid. The moment it made contact with its surface, the potion began to froth and smoke, then, all at once, it turned a clear, bright gold.
"Ooh, you look much tastier than Crabbe and Goyle, Harry," said Hermione, before catching sight of Ron's raised eyebrows, blushing slightly, and saying, "Oh, you know what I mean — Goyle's potion looked like bogies."
Hermione couldn't bear to look at Harry.
"Right then, fake Potters line up over here, please," said Moody.
Ron, Hermione, Fred, George, and Fleur lined up in front of the sink.
"We're one short," said Lupin.
"Here," said Hagrid gruffly, and he lifted Mundungus by the scruff of the neck and dropped him down beside Fleur, who wrinkled her nose pointedly and moved along to stand between Fred and George instead.
"I've toldjer, I'd sooner be a protector," said Mundungus.
"Shut it," growled Moody. "As I've already told you, you spineless worm, any Death Eaters we run into will be aiming to capture Potter, not kill him. Dumbledore always said You-Know-Who would want to finish Potter in person. It'll be the protectors who have got the most to worry about, the Death Eaters'll want to kill them."
Mundungus did not look particularly reassured, but Moody was already pulling half a dozen eggcup-sized glasses from inside his cloak, which he handed out, before pouring a little Polyjuice Potion into each one.
"Altogether, then . . ."
Hermione took her glass and glanced at Harry, who was frowning as she tipped it back and drank it.
The familiar pain from the second year settled on her throat, grimacing as it spread like fire through her stomach, then she put her hand out as her fingernails got shorter and her fingers grew. Her knees ached as the bones in her legs grew out, as her head ached, as her hair grew back into her head. Her pants grew short, and suddenly her private area hurt as something she had never had before was crammed into her knickers.
She nearly gasped out loud, realizing that she was entirely Harry as she looked around to see seven different Harrys in various clothing. Her own were tight on Harry, his shoulders much broader than hers, along with his height.
Fred and George turned to each other and said together, "Wow — we're identical!"
"I dunno, though, I think I'm still better-looking," said Fred, examining his reflection in the kettle.
"Bah," said Fleur, checking herself in the microwave door, "Bill, don't look at me — I'm 'ideous."
Hermione tried not to let Fleur see her roll her eyes.
"Those whose clothes are a bit roomy, I've got smaller here," said Moody, indicating the first sack, "and vice versa. Don't forget the glasses, there's six pairs in the side pocket. And when you're dressed, there's luggage in the other sack."
Hermione glanced at the real Harry, who was closest to her, seeing him watching as five other people, five blurs, looking just like him, grabbed clothing and then started stripping. She tried not to gasp and looked toward the wall, trying to give him more privacy as she too started stripping down, trying not to look down as she quickly pulled the trousers Moody had provided
"I knew Ginny was lying about that tattoo," said Ron as Hermione pulled the shirt over her head, then looked toward Harry to only see a blur.
Reaching down, she grabbed the glasses that Moody had provided. "Harry, your eyesight really is awful," said Hermione, as she put on glasses.
Once dressed, the fake Harrys took rucksacks and owl cages, each containing a stuffed snowy owl, from the second sack.
"Good," said Moody, as at last seven dressed, bespectacled, and luggage-laden Harrys faced him. "The pairs will be as follows: Mundungus will be traveling with me, by broom —"
"Why'm I with you?" grunted the Harry nearest the back door.
"Because you're the one that needs watching," growled Moody, and sure enough, his magical eye did not waver from Mundungus as he continued, "Arthur and Fred —"
"I'm George," said the twin at whom Moody was pointing. "Can't you even tell us apart when we're Harry?"
"Sorry, George —"
"I'm only yanking your wand, I'm Fred really —"
"Enough messing around!" snarled Moody. "The other one — George or Fred or whoever you are — you're with Remus. Miss Delacour —"
"I'm taking Fleur on a thestral," said Bill. "She's not that fond of brooms."
"Miss Granger with Kingsley, again by thestral —"
Hermione felt a wave of relief wash over her as she looked at Kingsley, and he smiled at her.
"Which leaves you and me, Ron!" said Tonks brightly, knocking over a mug tree as she waved at him.
"An' you're with me, Harry. That all righ'?" said Hagrid, looking a little anxious.
"We'll be on the bike, brooms an' thestrals can't take me weight, see. Not a lot o' room on the seat with me on it, though, so you'll be in the sidecar."
"That's great," said Harry.
"We think the Death Eaters will expect you to be on a broom," said Moody.
"Snape's had plenty of time to tell them everything about you he's never mentioned before, so if we do run into any Death Eaters, we're betting they'll choose one of the Potters who look at home on a broomstick. All right then," he went on, tying up the sack with the fake Potters' clothes in it and leading the way back to the door, "I make it three minutes until we're supposed to leave. No point locking the back door, it won't keep the Death Eaters out when they come looking. . . . Come on. . . ."
Hermione watched Harry hurry into the hall to fetch his rucksack, Firebolt, and Hedwig's cage before joining the others in the dark back garden. Kingsley climbed aboard the invisible beast and then held his hand out to her.
Hagrid was standing ready beside the motorbike, goggles on. As Hermione watched, Harry looked at the motorbike.
Harry looked up at Hagrid. "Is this it? Is this Sirius's bike?"
"The very same," said Hagrid, beaming down at Harry.
"An' the last time yeh was on it, Harry, I could fit yeh in one hand!" Hagrid stated, and Hermione watched Harry fold himself to fit in the sidecar.
Ron smirked at Harry, stuffed in the sidecar, and Hermione sent him a glare.
"Arthur's done a bit o' tinkerin'," said Hagrid, quite oblivious to Harry's discomfort. "It's got a few tricks up its handlebars now. Tha' one was my idea."
"Please be careful, Hagrid," said Mr. Weasley, who was standing beside them, holding his broomstick. "I'm still not sure that was advisable and it's certainly only to be used in emergencies."
"All right then," said Moody. "Everyone ready, please; I want us all to leave at exactly the same time or the whole point of the diversion's lost."
Hermione swallowed down her anxiety as everybody mounted their brooms, and she grabbed Kingsley around the middle.
"Hold tight now, Ron," said Tonks.
Ron threw a furtive, guilty look at Lupin before placing his hands on either side of her waist. Hagrid kicked the motorbike into life.
"Good luck, everyone," shouted Moody. "See you all in about an hour at the Burrow. On the count of three. One . . . two . . . THREE."
Hermione squeezed her eyes shut as she and Kingsley rose in the air.
Higher and higher they climbed into the sky — And then, out of nowhere, out of nothing, they were surrounded. At least thirty hooded figures, suspended in midair, formed a vast circle in the midst of which the Order members had risen, oblivious — Screams, a blaze of green light on every side.
Hermione glanced toward Harry to see Hagrid give a yell and the motorbike roll over.
As she blocked a stunning spell, she heard, "No — HEDWIG!" and saw his broomstick spin to the earth, as the motorbike swung the right way up again. Gasping as a jet of green raced toward him, Hedwig pushed against the cage and screeched as she fell to the floor of the cage.
"No — NO!" Harry's agonizing cries echoed out as Hermione and Kingsley were overwhelmed by Death Eaters, and she had to protect herself. *Rowling, J.K.. Harry Potter: The Complete Collection (1-7) (pp. 3343-3353). Pottermore Publishing. Kindle Edition.
Hermione frowned as the Death Eaters suddenly disappeared from around them as the thestral's wings beat the night air. A wave of magic swept over her, and Kingsley yelled, "We are within my protective enchantments. Hold on, just a couple of minutes more!"
Closing her eyes as she looked around in the distance to see if she could see any spells lighting up the sky, they slowly descended into the backyard of a secluded country home. Thestral's hooves crunched against the damp grass as Hermione clung tightly to Kingsley's waist. Exhaustion numbed her body, but adrenaline still pulsing through her veins as she took in their environment. Kingsley gently tapped her hand to release it and slid off, landing with a soft thud.
He turned and held his hand out to her to aid her. "Easy," he murmured.
Hermione took his hand and slid off the thestral, her sneakers feeling noticeably larger on her feet as they touched the ground. She felt an itch on her scalp as her hair began to regrow.
"Kingsley!" Rang out from the porch. A woman stood by the open back door.
Kingsley rushed to her. "I'm alright, honey. I'm alright."
Hermione watched as he hugged the woman and buried his face in her hair. Looking to the sky again, she felt like an intruder in a private moment.
A pair of arms wrapped around her. "You brought him home. Oh, thank you, thank you!" She said as her arms wrapped around her tighter, far too tight, as pain flared across her ribs and spine. She couldn't keep the gasp from spilling from her lips.
Mrs. Shacklebolt let go, her eyes wide. "Oh my word, I'm so sorry. Are you hurt?"
Hermione gave her a weak smile, pushing through the throbbing in her side. "I'm alright. Just a little soreness. Nothing I can't handle."
Kingsley stepped toward her. "Did you take a hit?"
Hermione nodded. "A Crucio, just for a short time, and a cutting spell to my side. If you don't mind, I'd love to sit down on something that is not a thestral's back."
"Say no more," Mrs. Shacklebolt said, placing her hand on Hermione's back and guiding her toward the house. "Both of you, come on. I've got soup on the stove, a warm fire, and a bed for you if you need it. You're safe now."
Hermione blinked rapidly as she glanced back at the thestral that she could now see. Safe was a foreign word these days.
"Honey, we will only be here 40 minutes at most. Our portkey is timed for one," Kingsley told her.
"Let's get you cleaned up at least, some food in your belly," She stated as Hermione entered the house.
Hermione looked at Kingsley, who pulled some dittany out for her. "Do you think everyone else is okay?"
"We'll be fourth to arrive. We timed out the arrivals to make sure we didn't all pile in on Molly too fast," Kingsley told her as he got rag, "Everyone will be all right."
Forty minutes later, a healed side and a little rest had Hermione thanking Mrs. Shacklebolt before their portkey activated.
"Take care of yourself, Miss Granger," Mrs. Shacklebolt stated.
"Thank you again, Ma'am," Hermione said as Kingsley held out a coat hanger for them, and she grabbed hold.
"Three… two… one," Kingsley said as they were whisked away, spinning madly through the unknown.
Hermione gasped just as her feet hit the ground, and she nearly fell over. Looking up, she saw someone running toward her, and as she did, she caught sight of Harry. She flung herself into his arms, relieved that he was okay.
Harry pulled her behind him, making her gasp as she saw Kingsley and Lupin pull their wands on each other.
"The last words Albus Dumbledore spoke to the pair of us?"
"'Harry is the best hope we have. Trust him,'" said Lupin calmly.
Kingsley turned his wand on Harry, but Lupin said, "It's him, I've checked!"
"All right, all right!" said Kingsley, stowing his wand back beneath his cloak. "But somebody betrayed us! They knew, they knew it was tonight!"
"So it seems," replied Lupin, "but apparently they did not realize that there would be seven Harrys."
"Small comfort!" snarled Kingsley. "Who else is back?"
"Only Harry, Hagrid, George, and me."
Hermione stifled a little moan behind her hand.
"What happened to you?" Lupin asked Kingsley.
"Followed by five, injured two, might've killed one," Kingsley reeled off, "and we saw You-Know-Who as well, he joined the chase halfway through but vanished pretty quickly. Remus, he can —"
"Fly," supplied Harry. "I saw him too, he came after Hagrid and me."
"So that's why he left, to follow you!" said Kingsley. "I couldn't understand why he'd vanished. But what made him change targets?"
"Harry behaved a little too kindly to Stan Shunpike," said Lupin.
"Stan?" repeated Hermione. "But I thought he was in Azkaban?"
Kingsley let out a mirthless laugh. "Hermione, there's obviously been a mass breakout which the Ministry has hushed up. Travers's hood fell off when I cursed him, he's supposed to be inside too. But what happened to you, Remus? Where's George?"
"He lost an ear," said Lupin.
Hermione held onto Harry tightly. "Lost an — ?" Hermione repeated in a high voice.
"Snape's work," said Lupin.
"Snape?" shouted Harry. "You didn't say —"
"He lost his hood during the chase. Sectumsempra was always a speciality of Snape's. I wish I could say I'd paid him back in kind, but it was all I could do to keep George on the broom after he was injured, he was losing so much blood."
"Harry, give us a hand!" called Hagrid hoarsely from the door, in which he was stuck again.
"Come on," Harry said, grabbing Hermione's hand.
Together they aided Hagrid in freeing him from the door, then headed through the empty kitchen and back into the sitting room, where Mrs. Weasley and Ginny were still tending to George. Mrs. Weasley had staunched his bleeding now.
Hermione gasped as she saw the gaping hole where George's ear had been.
"How is he?" Harry asked.
Mrs. Weasley looked around and said, "I can't make it grow back, not when it's been removed by Dark Magic. But it could have been so much worse. . . . He's alive."
"Yeah," said Harry. "Thank God."
"Did I hear someone else in the yard?" Ginny asked.
"Hermione and Kingsley," said Harry.
"Thank goodness," Ginny whispered.
Hermione swallowed hard as Harry and Ginny looked at each other, then Ginny glanced down to see them holding hands. Removing her hand from Harry's, suddenly, there was a crash in the kitchen.
"I'll prove who I am, Kingsley, after I've seen my son, now back off if you know what's good for you!"
"Mr. Weasley," Hermione whispered as Harry ran past her to the kitchen, but Mr. Weasley ran past him to stand in front of her, Fred right behind him.
"Arthur!" sobbed Mrs. Weasley. "Oh, thank goodness!"
"How is he?" Mr. Weasley dropped to his knees beside George.
Fred gaped over the back of the sofa at his twin's wound as if he could not believe what he was seeing. Perhaps roused by the sound of Fred and their father's arrival, George stirred.
"How do you feel, Georgie?" whispered Mrs. Weasley.
George's fingers groped for the side of his head.
"Saintlike," he murmured.
"What's wrong with him?" croaked Fred, looking terrified. "Is his mind affected?"
"Saintlike," repeated George, opening his eyes and looking up at his brother.
"You see . . . I'm holy. Holey, Fred, geddit?"
Mrs. Weasley sobbed harder than ever.
Color flooded Fred's pale face. "Pathetic," he told George. "Pathetic! With the whole wide world of ear-related humor before you, you go for holey?"
"Ah well," said George, grinning at his tear-soaked mother. "You'll be able to tell us apart now, anyway, Mum." He looked around. "Hi, Harry — you are Harry, right?"
"Yeah, I am," said Harry, moving closer to the sofa.
"Well, at least we got you back okay," said George. "Why aren't Ron and Bill huddled round my sickbed?"
"They're not back yet, George," said Mrs. Weasley.
George's grin faded.
Harry glanced at Ginny and Hermione and motioned to them to accompany him back outside. As they walked through the kitchen, Ginny said in a low voice, "Ron and Tonks should be back by now. They didn't have a long journey; Auntie Muriel's not that far from here."
Harry said nothing.
As they walked down the backsteps into the dark yard, Ginny took his hand, looking at Hermione as if she was challenging her.
Kingsley was striding backward and forward, glancing up at the sky every time he turned.
Hagrid and Lupin stood shoulder to shoulder, gazing upward in silence. None of them looked around when Harry, Hermione, and Ginny joined their silent vigil.
And then a broom materialized directly above them and streaked toward the ground.
"It's them!" screamed Hermione.
Tonks landed in a long skid that sent earth and pebbles everywhere.
"Remus!" Tonks cried as she staggered off the broom into Lupin's arms.
Ron tripped dazedly toward Harry and Hermione.
"You're okay," he mumbled, before Hermione flew at him and hugged him tightly.
"I thought — I thought —" Hermione said, looking at him then at Harry, who was smiling.
"'M all right," said Ron, patting her on the back. "'M fine."
"Ron was great," said Tonks warmly, relinquishing her hold on Lupin. "Wonderful. Stunned one of the Death Eaters, straight to the head, and when you're aiming at a moving target from a flying broom —"
"You did?" said Hermione, gazing up at Ron with her arms still around his neck.
"Always the tone of surprise," he said a little grumpily, breaking free. "Are we the last back?"
"No," said Ginny, "we're still waiting for Bill and Fleur and Mad-Eye and Mundungus. I'm going to tell Mum and Dad you're okay, Ron —"
She ran back inside.
"So what kept you? What happened?" Lupin sounded almost angry at Tonks.
"Bellatrix," said Tonks. "She wants me quite as much as she wants Harry, Remus. She tried very hard to kill me. I just wish I'd got her, I owe Bellatrix. But we definitely injured Rodolphus. . . . Then we got to Ron's Auntie Muriel's and we'd missed our Portkey and she was fussing over us —"
A muscle was jumping in Lupin's jaw. He nodded but seemed unable to say anything else.
"So what happened to you lot?" Tonks asked, turning to Harry, Hermione, and Kingsley.
They recounted the stories of their own journeys, but all the time, the continued absence of Bill, Fleur, Mad-Eye, and Mundungus seemed to lie upon them like a frost, its icy bite harder and harder to ignore.
"I'm going to have to get back to Downing Street, I should have been there an hour ago," said Kingsley finally, after a last sweeping gaze at the sky. "Let me know when they're back."
Lupin nodded.
With a wave to the others, Kingsley walked away into the darkness toward the gate.
Mr. and Mrs. Weasley came racing down the back steps, Ginny behind them. Both parents hugged Ron before turning to Lupin and Tonks.
"Thank you," said Mrs. Weasley, "for our sons."
"Don't be silly, Molly," said Tonks at once.
"How's George?" asked Lupin.
"What's wrong with him?" piped up Ron.
"He's lost —" But the end of Mrs. Weasley's sentence was drowned in a general outcry: A thestral had just soared into sight and landed a few feet from them.
Bill and Fleur slid from its back, windswept but unhurt.
"Bill! Thank God, thank God —" Mrs. Weasley ran forward, but the hug Bill bestowed upon her was perfunctory.
Looking directly at his father, he said, "Mad-Eye's dead."
Nobody spoke, nobody moved.
Hermione held onto Ron, looking at Harry, who had turned pale.
"We saw it," said Bill; Fleur nodded, tear tracks glittering on her cheeks in the light from the kitchen window. "It happened just after we broke out of the circle: Mad-Eye and Dung were close by us, they were heading north too. Voldemort — he can fly — went straight for them. Dung panicked, I heard him cry out, Mad-Eye tried to stop him, but he Disapparated. Voldemort's curse hit Mad-Eye full in the face, he fell backward off his broom and — there was nothing we could do, nothing, we had half a dozen of them on our own tail —" Bill's voice broke.
"Of course you couldn't have done anything," said Lupin.
They all stood looking at each other. They followed Mr. and Mrs. Weasley back into the Burrow, and into the living room, where Fred and George were laughing together.
"What's wrong?" said Fred, scanning their faces as they entered. "What's happened? Who's — ?"
"Mad-Eye," said Mr. Weasley. "Dead."
The twins' grins turned to grimaces of shock. Nobody seemed to know what to do. Tonks was crying silently into a handkerchief: She had been close to Mad-Eye.
Hagrid, who had sat down on the floor in the corner where he had most space, was dabbing at his eyes with his tablecloth-sized handkerchief. Bill walked over to the sideboard and pulled out a bottle of firewhisky and some glasses.
"Here," he said, and with a wave of his wand, he sent twelve full glasses soaring through the room to each of them, holding the thirteenth aloft. "Mad-Eye."
"Mad-Eye," they all said, and drank.
"Mad-Eye," echoed Hagrid, a little late, with a hiccup.
Hermione coughed as the Firewhiskey seared her throat.
"So Mundungus disappeared?" said Lupin, who had drained his glass in one.
"I know what you're thinking," said Bill, "and I wondered that too, on the way back here, because they seemed to be expecting us, didn't they? But Mundungus can't have betrayed us. They didn't know there would be seven Harrys, that confused them the moment we appeared, and in case you've forgotten, it was Mundungus who suggested that little bit of skullduggery. Why wouldn't he have told them the essential point? I think Dung panicked, it's as simple as that. He didn't want to come in the first place, but Mad-Eye made him, and You-Know-Who went straight for them. It was enough to make anyone panic."
"You-Know-Who acted exactly as Mad-Eye expected him to," sniffed Tonks. "Mad-Eye said he'd expect the real Harry to be with the toughest, most skilled Aurors. He chased Mad-Eye first, and when Mundungus gave them away he switched to Kingsley. . . ."
"Yes, and zat eez all very good," snapped Fleur, "but still eet does not explain 'ow zey knew we were moving 'Arry tonight, does eet? Somebody must 'ave been careless. Somebody let slip ze date to an outsider. It is ze only explanation for zem knowing ze date but not ze 'ole plan." She glared around at them all, tear tracks still etched on her beautiful face, silently daring any of them to contradict her.
Nobody did. The only sound to break the silence was that of Hagrid hiccuping from behind his handkerchief.
"No," Harry said aloud, and they all looked at him, surprised "I mean . . . if somebody made a mistake," Harry went on, "and let something slip, I know they didn't mean to do it. It's not their fault," he repeated, again a little louder than he would usually have spoken. "We've got to trust each other. I trust all of you, I don't think anyone in this room would ever sell me to Voldemort."
"Well said, Harry," said Fred unexpectedly.
"Yeah, 'ear, 'ear," said George, with half a glance at Fred, the corner of whose mouth twitched.
Lupin was wearing an odd expression as he looked at Harry.
"You think I'm a fool?" demanded Harry.
"No, I think you're like James," said Lupin, "who would have regarded it as the height of dishonor to mistrust his friends."
Lupin had turned away from him, set down his glass upon a side table, and addressed Bill, "There's work to do. I can ask Kingsley whether —"
"No," said Bill at once, "I'll do it, I'll come."
"Where are you going?" said Tonks and Fleur together.
"Mad-Eye's body," said Lupin. "We need to recover it."
"Can't it — ?" began Mrs. Weasley with an appealing look at Bill.
"Wait?" said Bill. "Not unless you'd rather the Death Eaters took it?"
Nobody spoke as Lupin and Bill said good-bye and left. The rest of them now dropped into chairs, all except for Harry, who remained standing. Hermione looked at him, nearly seeing the thoughts of guilt going through his head.
"I've got to go too," said Harry.
"Don't be silly, Harry," said Mrs. Weasley. "What are you talking about?"
"I can't stay here." He rubbed his forehead. "You're all in danger while I'm here. I don't want —"
"But don't be so silly!" said Mrs. Weasley. "The whole point of tonight was to get you here safely, and thank goodness it worked. And Fleur's agreed to get married here rather than in France, we've arranged everything so that we can all stay together and look after you."
"If Voldemort finds out I'm here —" Harry trailed off.
"But why should he?" asked Mrs. Weasley.
"There are a dozen places you might be now, Harry," said Mr. Weasley. "He's got no way of knowing which safe house you're in."
"It's not me I'm worried for!" said Harry.
"We know that," said Mr. Weasley quietly, "but it would make our efforts tonight seem rather pointless if you left."
"Yer not goin' anywhere," growled Hagrid. "Blimey, Harry, after all we wen' through ter get you here?"
"Yeah, what about my bleeding ear?" said George, hoisting himself up on his cushions. "I know that —"
"Mad-Eye wouldn't want —"
"I KNOW!" Harry bellowed.
Hermione swallowed hard as she looked at Harry's face. He felt ganged up on.
"Where's Hedwig, Harry?" she said coaxingly. "We can put her up with Pigwidgeon and give her something to eat."
He drank the last of his Firewhiskey to avoid answering.
"Wait till it gets out yeh did it again, Harry," said Hagrid. "Escaped him, fought him off when he was right on top of yeh!"
"It wasn't me," said Harry flatly. "It was my wand. My wand acted of its own accord."
Hermione said gently, "But that's impossible, Harry. You mean that you did magic without meaning to; you reacted instinctively."
"No," said Harry. "The bike was falling, I couldn't have told you where Voldemort was, but my wand spun in my hand and found him and shot a spell at him, and it wasn't even a spell I recognized. I've never made gold flames appear before."
"Often," said Mr. Weasley, "when you're in a pressured situation you can produce magic you never dreamed of. Small children often find, before they're trained —"
"It wasn't like that," said Harry through gritted teeth.
Hermione knew the look on his face. His scar was hurting him fiercely.
"I'm getting some fresh air," Harry muttered as he set down his glass and left the room.
Hermione stood, and Ron grabbed her arm. "No, Ron, he needs us. Hedwig isn't here, and I saw something fall from the motorcycle; she obviously didn't survive."
Ron just nodded as he followed her to the back garden. Outside, Harry was holding his head, then gasped as he fell forward, clutching the gate of the garden.
"Harry?" Hermione said, walking over to him. But he wasn't with them. He was far away from wherever Voldemort was.
Harry stood shaking in the darkness, clutching the gate into the garden.
"Harry, come back in the house," Hermione whispered. "You aren't still thinking of leaving?"
"Yeah, you've got to stay, mate," said Ron, thumping Harry on the back.
"Are you all right?" Hermione asked, close enough now to look into Harry's face. "You look awful!"
"Well," said Harry shakily, "I probably look better than Ollivander. . . ."
When he had finished telling them what he had seen, Ron looked appalled, but Hermione felt as if she were going to puke.
"But it was supposed to have stopped! Your scar — it wasn't supposed to do this anymore! You mustn't let that connection open up again — Dumbledore wanted you to close your mind!" When he did not reply, she gripped his arm. "Harry, he's taking over the Ministry and the newspapers and half the Wizarding world! Don't let him inside your head, too!"*Rowling, J.K.. Harry Potter: The Complete Collection (1-7) (pp. 3368-3381). Pottermore Publishing. Kindle Edition.
"I try, Hermione!" Harry defended, "But no matter what I try, it doesn't work!"
Hermione looked at him, "Well, try harder! Now let's get inside and… work something out if we can."
Ron scoffed, "Like Mum won't make us all go straight to bed."
Hermione hooked her arms into one of each of the boys' arms, "Oh, she won't, but she has distractions soon."
Preview of Chapter 4- Fighter
Hermione sighed, "Ronald, there isn't going to be anything but dust mites, pixies, and moths in those curtains. You can quit pretending to search."
"Good, because I'm hungry."
Hermione looked at him with crossed arms, "And who is going to cook breakfast?"
"Kreacher, of course, or you," Ron said as Harry coughed, shaking his head.
Hermione threw her hands up and stormed out of the room. "Unbelievable!"
Harry came up next to her, "Ignore him. He thinks all women could be like his mother."
Hermione glanced at him as they walked down the stairs, "And I'm not?"
Harry laughed, "No, you will never be a stay-at-home Mum that just keeps house. You will change our world."
Hermione blushed, and her heart seemed to skip a beat. "You think so?"
"Know so," Harry told her as Ron caught up to them.