To Rise Above

It is after Harry's graduation from Hogwarts. The Wizarding World and the Order of the Phoenix had fought the war for three years. Then, it seemed as if the good would win, and that they were on their way to victory. Then Hagrid was killed, betrayed by Peter Pettigrew, just as James and Lily had been. More deaths followed. Dumbledore, Snape, Ginny; the good faltered and lost some of their most important people. In a hopeless battle, Voldemort finally took over. In the two months that have followed, Hogwarts has been destroyed, and Voldemort has issued an order; death to all Muggle-Borns. Many have gone into hiding, but it is difficult to hide from such a powerful wizard. But the Death Eaters have another obstacle; Dumbledore's Army has been formed again.

~*~

Petra Fairweather woke with a start .She heard the screams of the Austens across the street. She was careful to make no noise as she jumped out of bed and peered through the curtains of her bedroom window. Death Eaters, dressed in long black cloaks and masks, exited the house, pushing the Austens through the door. Following them were two Muggle-Borns; Justin Flinch-Fletchley and his younger sister Marina, people she knew but had not seen for two months. Petra gasped out loud. Justin, now 18 , picked up his small sister. The shouts and commands of the Death Eaters cut Petra's heart.

As quickly as they had come, the Death Eaters took their prisoners and Disapparated. Dropping the curtain and gripping the windowsill, Petra closed her eyes and

tried to get her breath back.

She'd known Justin. Barely, because she had two years behind him at Hogwarts and in a different house, but he had been Prefect, and had been going out with a Ravenclaw in the year above Petra. He could have been something really good to this world, she thought. Many of them could have.

But they wouldn't be able to. It had been two months ago that she and the rest of the Wizarding world had heard the order. All Muggle-Borns were to be rounded up and executed. Dumbledore's Army, an underground movement Petra and her father were secretly part of, had been quick to act. Although she herself didn't take part in hiding the Muggle- Borns yet, others had begun to hide them immediately.

Angry at his inability to find the Muggle-Borns, Voldemort sent out a new order: not only the Muggle-Borns were to be killed, but those hiding them as well. There would be five more executions at dawn today, Petra thought bitterly.

Glancing at the clock beside her bed, she swore at the long-gone Death Eaters. It was 4:30, too early to be awake. She lay on her bed and stared at the ceiling until the first rays of sunlight lit her room. Then she got up. She had a delivery to make.

Sitting at her kitchen table just a few hours after the Flinch-Fletchleys had been captured, Petra poured milk into her cereal bowl and picked up the Daily Prophet. She instantly dropped it in disgust. This was not real news, not like the news she got from meetings. This was Death Eater propaganda, their attempt to brainwash the public. She glanced at the names under the articles and made a tutting noise. Just as she had expected, all the articles were written by important Death Eaters, the ones right inside Voldemort's inner circle. She sighed, and started to eat her cereal.

Footsteps on the stairs told her ears that her father was up. Aaron Fairweather entered the kitchen and smiled at his only daughter.

"Good morning Petra," he said cheerfully.

"If you can call it good," she replied, in a much less cheerful voice.

They ate their breakfast in silence for a while, until Petra couldn't stand the silence.

"The Austens and Flinch-Fletchleys are dead by now," she said, looking at her father with her dark eyes.

His head snapped up from his cereal bowl. "What are you saying, Petra?"

"They found them last night. Death Eaters raided their house and found the Flinch-Fletchleys hiding there. Look for yourself, no one's left. "

" How do you know this?" her father asked carefully.

" Because I saw," she snapped. Quickly, she stood up and walked to the window.

" They're not safe in our world, Dad. They need to go with the Muggles. I don't think our organizers realize the danger they're in hiding here. It's too easy for the Death Eaters to find them. Why can't I help them hide in a better place?" she cried.

"They don't need a better place! They belong with us. They wouldn't be any safer with the Muggles than with us."

"The Ministry which, might I add, is under the control of them, has a record of every Magical family. They just need to go to everyone's house and look!"

"It doesn't work that way Petra. You don't understand some things," her father looked so tired and weak at that moment, with his hands clasped in front of him, that she suddenly calmed down.

"Dad," she said, going to him, "I want to understand. If people would just tell

me-"

"We're protecting you, that's all!"

"I don't need to be protected!"

He gently took her face in one hand. "You're so much like your mother. That's what she said too."

"But things are different now, Dad. I know what could happen. I'm more careful than she was."

"You're too young, Petra. They show no mercy. Not even for young, pretty girls like you. You're in enough danger just having your face in that photograph of ours! Sometimes I ask myself why I even let you do this."

"You know it's because of mum. That's the reason I want to do this. For her- and for Leah. I might not have been in Gryffindor, " she continued in a hushed voice, " But that doesn't mean Ravenclaws aren't brave. That I'm not brave. I want to do more. Next meeting I'll tell them that. Mum died for a reason, and I'm going to do what she couldn't."

With those words, she stood up and went back upstairs to her room. She stood in front of the mirror and looked at her disguise with approval. It was the fourth time she'd used this one, and soon she'd have to use another one. This time, she was going to be a Muggle Nurse. Dressed in the uniform with a stethoscope placed around her neck for good measure, she certainly looked the part. Her fake Muggle identity said she was Carol Merriton, 21 years old. She hoped she looked that old. If she were stopped by Death Eaters for any reason, they wouldn't know she was Petra Fairweather.

She was to bring fake identities to a DA member in Cambridge, about 75 kilometers away from her hometown of Norwich. The Muggle train that she was boarding was supposed to be fast. Petra was actually interested to see what it would be like; she'd never been on a Muggle train before.

For the last touch, she placed clear contacts in her eyes, something the DA had recently received from their contacts in Bulgaria. They gave her the ability to see through invisibility cloaks, so that she would see every Death Eater either watching or following her.

She hid the identities in her bra, socks, and her bag, then walked back downstairs. Her father was still sitting in the kitchen. She kissed him on the cheek and he nodded his head.

" I have a delivery to make in Cambridge, Dad. I should be back by 3:00."

She walked out of the door and looked for Death Eaters outside her house. There were none. She could almost convince herself that the world she knew was not falling apart, that life was normal. She walked down her driveway trying to act normally, but she couldn't help glancing at the Austen's now-empty house. The Dark Mark, the disgusting green that it was, still hung over it. With the wand she wasn't supposed to have hidden beneath her sleeve, she muttered the incantation and the Dark Mark disappeared. She could get into a lot of trouble for that because she wasn't even supposed to have a wand. The Death Eaters had stolen everyone's wand at the beginning, snapping them in half. It was lucky for the DA that they had connections. All of the members now had new wands.

An inexplicable rage filled Petra's body, heart, and mind when she remembered the events of last night. She couldn't stop fighting them now. The revenge she could have if only she had the chance... She'd kill them, kill them like they had killed her sister. She didn't care about the danger; she'd fight the Death Eaters until peace returned to the Wizarding World. She'd made up her mind. It was what she had to do. She'd help bring the peace.

Walking down her quiet street, Petra could barely stand it. The irony of all this, the irony of her whole life.

The street was peaceful. No, it looked peaceful. The sun was rising over the rooftops, and the soft cooing of a morning dove could be heard. How were the Muggles ever to tell that they were soon going to be killed, imprisoned, enslaved, by those - those despicable - those... Even in her head Petra could not find a word strong enough to describe the Death Eaters.

Death Eaters like that arrogant fraud Lucius Malfoy. Malfoy was third in command right behind the Lestranges. Petra had always hated him and his son Draco. She remembered Draco at Hogwarts, prancing around giving threats to every person that he thought had anything to do with the Order. She had wanted to slap that smirk right of his pale face every time she saw him. He would pay for what his family had done to her mum.

He would probably be starting his training to become a Death Eater, following dear Daddy's footsteps. He'd be killing some innocent Muggles to show he was worthy enough to serve Voldemort. Worthy my arse...that piece of scum, thought Petra.

She finally reached the train station just as the sun illuminated the entire city with early morning light. The month of August had been very hot and already Petra could feel the heat through her nurse's uniform.

Squinting her dark gray eyes suspiciously, she looked around the platform, looking for anyone who might recognize her for who she actually was. For an instant, she thought she caught sight of a wand carelessly placed in a pocket, but upon closer inspection she realized it was a pencil, a tool Muggles used for writing. Personally, Petra thought that quills were much better.

But now was not the time to think of that. The moment of panic she had felt when she thought had seen the wand had been a reminder that there may be some danger in this trip. She might very well be seen. She'd be careful. She had to be.

~*~

Much further south, Ron Weasley paced his small rented room just outside of Falmouth, England. The wooden floors squeaked under his large feet and he was continuously running his hand through his very red hair, making it stand on end. Life was Hell. No doubt about it.

The entire Weasley family had been forced to leave the Burrow because of Malfoy.Ron believed that if there was ever a more awful person than Voldemort, it was Lucius Mafoy. It was the Malfoys' entire fault that the Weasleys were in danger, and all their fault that Ginny was missing. The Weasleys, after Muggle-Borns, were the most despised by Malfoy, so it was a wonder that only Gi-

Ron stopped pacing. He had been about to say that only Ginny was gone? Only Ginny was missing and presumed dead? What kind of brother was he? Of course not only! His best friend until they were ten and eleven, when he had gone away to Hogwarts had been Ginny, and everyone presumed she was dead. But Ron knew better. He thought that surely the Malfoys would have thrown her dead, mangled body at them to torture them even more. But knowing something would be better than this, he thought. Knowing that she was either dead or alive would be better. He'd appreciate seeing her in any state at this point, because maybe it would ease his pain.

If his pain was anything, Harry's was worse. Harry had finally woken up at some point and seen his sister as if for the first time. They'd started going out in seventh year and Ron didn't think he'd ever be able to see them without the other again. It was now Harry and Ginny, as if you couldn't associate one without the other. Ron thought often of how that was the way it should be. But it was harder for him to think of Ginny every day that went by. There was always the chance that she was alive, but when others started to disbelieve and months had passed, it was becoming harder to know what he believed anymore.

Ron didn't even know where Harry was; the secret was hidden deep inside Lupin. He could have no contact with him whatsoever, it was too big of a risk. Harry had wanted Ron to be Secret Keeper, but Ron had protested that the Death Eaters would expect it. He didn't trust himself. He still couldn't fight the Imperius. So Harry had chosen Remus and Ron desperately hoped that Harry wasn't going to relive his father's history. Ron trusted Remus with his life, but that didn't stop the nightmares.

Finished his pacing, Ron sat down at a wooden desk that was covered in scattered parchment on which codes, missions, urgent messages were written. He glanced down at the piece of parchment he had been writing on.

Dear Otter, it said, in his usual messy scrawl. Otter was Hermione's code name, because of the form her Patronus Charm took. Dipping his quill in ink, he began to write.

Dear Otter,

I can't say much in my letters as usual, but I still keep writing just to keep you company. It must be boring, wherever you are, all by yourself with your cat. It's not boring here. And I know you're pouting because you're missing out on it, but I'd rather have you miserable than dead. We all would. And don't try to deny that you're pouting either! Just remember, I got an O on my Divination OWL.

You know it's important for you to stay where you are. Malfoy is still looking for you. The other day, two Muggle-Borns were caught, and we have reason to believe that it was Malfoy who found them. Lucius Malfoy wants all of you dead, but Draco's rising in ranks quickly. Soon he'll have as much power as his father and you can bet the first thing he's going to do is look for one of us. He knows he can't get Harry, but he could find me or you. Just be careful, okay?

The DA has been awfully busy lately. I really can't tell you with what exactly, but I hope someday we'll be able to have your help. You're not the type to give up, so just keep hoping for us.

I'm looking forward to the end of this. I'm looking forward to spending time with you again and watching Quidditch! We can go to my team's games again, and you can wear the shirt, I'll buy you one. Actually, you must wear the shirt, even if I have to put it on for you. Not that I'd mind, of course.

I miss you!

Cheers!

Leopard

He put down his quill and quickly translated the letter into the code that the DA was currently using for their correspondence, and threw the original into the fire. He stood next to the fire and watched it burn. A cooling charm kept the heat from bothering him too much. Gazing into the bright orange flames, he thought of Hermione, wherever she might be, far away from him. As cheerful as he tried to sound in the letters, it was very depressing being away from her. Over and over again, Ron replayed memories, daydreamed about how he would personally go to get her back. Sometimes when he missed her too much he would have a conversation with her, speaking aloud and she would answer back in his head. He didn't know when he had gone this insane over her. The days were lonely here. For company, he had his over-active owl Pig and a grumpy landlord with fly-away white hair and big ears, who was always threatening to kick Ron out for coming home too late.

He felt very much alone.
~*~

In the Malfoy Mansion, Draco Malfoy also paced his room, but for a different reason than Weasley.

Draco Malfoy wore a scowl. His blonde hair sleeked back, and his cold, ice-blue eyes burned with anger. Treading over the rich green carpet in his room, he was being watched by his new house elf, Nullen. Nullen's giant yellow eyes were fixed on his master and filled with a look of tremendous admiration. Draco though it was disgusting.

" Leave," he spat. The house elf opened his mouth to speak, but Draco cut it off.

"Go iron my dress robes. I'm meeting Pansy tonight. Bring me the silver ones with black fastenings," he ordered.

Nullen hastily bowed out of the room.

Draco rolled his eyes at the door. "Pitiful," he muttered.

Alone at last, he sat down on his bed and twirled his new ring around his finger. It wasn't fair that the Dark Lord had given him this, splendid and full of power though it was, but still refused to-

A soft knocking at the door interrupted his thoughts. He was very tempted to not answer it why should he be bothered? But he heard Nullen's voice, and knowing that damn house elf had mixed things up again, he stood and went to open the door. What a waste, that bloody thing was.

Sure enough, there stood Nullen, holding two robes of silver, one in each hand.

"Did Master-" he began, his eyes full of tears.

" Master said the ones with black fastening, Nullen. Now hurry up, you waste my time. If they're not ironed in half an hour when I need to go pick up Pansy, you can keep the clothes."

The house elf positively trembled, then bowed and scurried away. Draco watched him with contempt until he went around the corridor and, closing the door behind him, went to his ornate chair by his window. He could finally think things through.

He couldn't understand why the Dark Lord was being so harsh with him. He had already killed six Muggles, which was respectable, and had been the main reason they had found the Austens and Macmillans. Of course, he'd almost told Him that they were at the Fairweathers across the street, but had changed his mind upon closer inspection.

Draco was quite certain, however, that the Fairweathers' daughter - what was her name? - oh yes, Petra, was doing illegal activity against them. Death Eaters were quite aware that there was a group working against them, but had yet to catch any. Perhaps she would be the first. It was too bad, she was a fine piece of work, that one; and he really would be dreadfully sorry if he had to turn her in. Draco gave the slightest snort of laughter.

Suddenly, Draco had an idea. Maybe-just maybe- if he gave the Dark Lord one of the Mudbloods, then the Dark Lord would certainly honor him, accept him, and give him the-

Two knocks startled him. Once again someone was, at his stupid, bloody door. That ruddy house elf! He thought. Damn, he needed time alone to think!

"Ye Gods, you ruddy house elf! What is it-" he began to shout as he opened the door. But he stopped suddenly when he realized that it was not Nullen, but Pansy standing in his doorway.

"Something wrong, Draco, dear?" she asked, looking ravishing in robes of finest silk.

"No, I was simply.....irritated," he said. Pansy smiled. He looked at her, his eyebrows knotted together.

"Wasn't I supposed to pick you up at your house?" he asked her.

" Well, yes, but I really did feel like staying home tonight," she said simperingly and walking into his room.

" Then why in heaven's name did you come here, woman?" Draco said, closing the door behind her.

Pansy ignored him and lay down on his bed. Draco was quite annoyed, further proof of how irritated he was; he usually enjoyed this.

"You know what I mean, Draco," Pansy said. She kicked off her shoes, and curled her toes.

"Pansy, now really isn't the right-"

"Time?"

"Well, yes."

"Draco, sweetheart, whatever is bothering you, I promise this will help you take your mind off things," Pansy said rather bossily. "Now come here."

Draco didn't refuse.

~*~

"Ah, Miss Fairweather, pleased to see you could come," Mr. Weasley greeted her as she entered the House of Black. The late Mrs. Black's screeching could be heard around the corner, and footsteps thundering madly from room to room were followed by silence. Petra smiled; she'd rung the doorbell. This happened every time, and she found it somewhat amusing. It was the only thing she'd find amusing in this house, however, she thought.

Petra had been shocked when she had learned the truth and the whole story about Sirius Black. It wasn't that she still believed him to be a murderer, she'd seen Pettigrew with her own eyes, it was just the fact that they still used his house. After he was dead. It was morbid. Petra always got the chills here.

"Your father couldn't come?" Mr. Weasley asked her as he walked with her into a large room. Petra shook her head no. He was still on a mission. It was just as well, now he wouldn't be able to stop her from saying what she wanted to.

They had entered a room full of comfy chairs and couches that were half-full of people. Petra recognized many of them, either from the other meetings or from school. There were some, she didn't know. Newcomers, she assumed.

There were several people she knew quite well. Remus, Mrs. Weasley (the Weasleys now lived at 12 Grimmauld Place, as did Remus), Neville Longbottom, Luna Lovegood, Mundungus Fletcher, Tonks, and Mad- Eye Moody were at practically every meeting, and they were in charge.

Petra grinned as she spotted her two friends from school. Anne-Marie MacNair who was her best friend and fellow Ravenclaw and (Petra blushed slightly when he grinned at her) Andrew Fossil, Keeper extraordinaire. They were the only ones in the DA that hadn't finished their schooling since Hogwarts had been destroyed in their 5^th year, and were being given lessons by Remus Lupin every Saturday night to keep up.

They were an odd group, the three of them. Petra and Anne-Marie, although best friends, seemed to clash in their entirety. Petra, who had long layered black hair, looked somewhat dark next to Anne-Marie, whose chin- length blonde hair caught every light in the room. Her blue eyes, that always seemed to twinkle merrily, made Petra's gray and Andrew's hazel seem dull. Andrew seemed to even everything out, balancing the two others with brown hair, and freckles. Andrew balanced the two girls out in personality as well. Petra was serious, and Anne-Marie was lively. Andrew was a pleasant mixture of the two of them, seeming to have all of their good qualities in the normal amount. The two girls were somewhat extremes of personality. The only thing they seemed to actually have in common was a love of Quidditch and a sense of adventure. None of them seemed to notice their differences, however, and they were as good friends as anyone could be.

Indeed, it was with a sad tone of voice that people they were reminded of the legendary Hermione, Ron, and Harry as they looked at Petra and her friends. Petra hoped that they wouldn't ever have to be separated from each other like The Trio had been.

Clearing his throat, Mr. Weasley began the meeting, congratulating those that had been delivering wands to witches and wizards this past week. Anne-Marie and Andrew both elbowed her at this, and she whispered at them to shut up.

".... So, I suppose you're wondering if I called this meeting for a reason."

Several people murmured and heads nodded to indicate that this was indeed true.

"Well, to begin with, there are some matters concerning our Muggle-Borns."

"Some matters? Two were killed!" Petra exclaimed. Didn't anyone but her see that they weren't safe?

" Yes, yes, Petra, I was aware of that. Last Monday, the two Flinch-Fletchleys were killed and executed," Mr. Weasley said with some difficulty. Petra could see Neville's knuckles tightening around the arm of his chair. Now didn't seem to be the time for action, but a time for prayer. She could convince them all right now if she wanted, but found herself being silent.

"It shouldn't have happened! We took the right precautions!" said Tonks angrily.

"At the time we were hiding them, we should remember that we didn't have wands. It's only been a month since we got our first ones, but we should have done something since then."

"We need to do Fidelius!" exclaimed Tonks, looking brightly around the room. Petra couldn't help but notice that Remus looked at her with an odd sense of pride when she said that. The rumours she'd heard about them... "Oh, Arthur, I could do it! I could cast some spells!"

"It's not enough," Petra said.

" Of course it is. Fidelius is the safest thing to do," said Bole, one of the only Slytherins among them.

"No! They're not safe here with us! They need to go with Muggles!"

"Fidelius is the safest thing!" Bole repeated.

"It isn't! Don't you think they know who we are? And where we live? The Ministry knows, my Dad was in charge of that! They have record of everyone one of us!"

"It doesn't make a difference if they do or not! Fidelius will prevent them from knowing, Petra! Your only fault has been that you rush into things too quickly, you devise a plan so fast, and you fail to see the conclusion. How you ever were put into Ravenclaw instead of Gryffindor, I'll never know," said Bole.

She saw red. Who did he think he was, telling her this! She was a Ravenclaw. The Sorting Hat had put her there.

" Who do you think-"

Mr. Weasley cleared his throat.

"Hem! I believe-"

" We should hide them with the Muggles," said Luna. "Wouldn't it be fascinating to visit Muggles? I heard some of them..." and she trailed off, her eyes becoming dreamy.

"Exactly," said Petra with a firm nod of her head. " Now listen to me, Bole- "

" I believe-"

" If I could just-"

" And you Slytherins!"

" WOULD YOU ALL BE QUIET!!!" Mr. Weasley's magically magnified voice yelled. They all fell silent.

"Filth! Creatures from Hell! Get out of my house, you scum!" Mrs. Black began to scream.

" I hate it when she does that, " grumbled Moody. He limped out of the room as fast as he could.

" Quietus," muttered Mr. Weasley. Mrs. Black continued to screech at them, and they heard Moody yell, " Be quiet, woman!" She ignored him.

" As I wanted to say beforehand, I believe that, with or without the necessary precautions, that it is still too dangerous to bring them out - at this point," he added when Anne-Marie opened her mouth to protest.

"Petra, do you really think it's safest?" Anne-Marie asked her quietly. Petra didn't answer, but simply sighed. She couldn't convince them anymore at this point.

"Let's just do Fidelius, alright?" said Remus quietly. He looked pale, and more tired than usual. They'd been busy lately, and leading up to the full moon, it must have been hard on him.

" Splendid," agreed Anne-Marie.

" How would we pull that off?" said Andrew exasperatedly. Petra knew why; he had never liked arguing. A true Hufflepuff indeed.

" We're going to need those qualified to do it," said Mr. Weasley.

" And a whole lot of luck," added Neville.

" Yes, that too. But I think that luck's on our side, for this. We'll need to owl all those capable of doing this charm... make sure they wouldn't turn us in. Molly? We have a list of them, don't we?" Mr. Weasley asked his wife. She nodded her head.

" Yes Arthur. I'll go get it now, " she replied and rose from her chair.

"No need. I can do the charm," Remus said. Mrs. Weasley sat back in her seat.

" Yes, so can Ron," Mrs. Weasley said proudly.

Petra watched her fondly. She truly loved Mrs. Weasley. For all her nagging, and caring, and worrying that she spent on all of the people in the DA. Petra would love to be the person to help give Mrs. Weasley her children back.

" We're doing Fidelius, Moody!" Tonks said cheerfully. She appeared quite pleased with herself. Moody, having returned from his attempts to silence the portrait of Mrs. Black, merely grunted. "Can I do it, too, Arthur?" she asked.

" Well, as you all know, there are certain witches and wizards that have been approved to do Fidelius by the Ministry."

"There is no Ministry anymore," spat one of the older witches, whom Petra knew only as Craig.

"But can't only certain people do it?" Andrew asked.

"That's right. The Ministry used to have a list that had the names of people who could, something like the list of Animagi, but it's probably gone, or it's going to be used against them."

" Well, who do we know that can do it?"

"Ron, Remus, and I believe Mundungus can do it."

"That man is always into trouble!" Mrs. Weasley exclaimed. "He'll be doing illegal smuggling or other nonsense while he's doing it, I know it!"

Petra, Anne-Marie, and Andrew all shared a secret smile. Mundungus had once tried to sell Andrew one of these smuggled items. Mundungus, at Hogsmeade one weekend, and quite drunk, had tried to sell Andrew a Billywig. Andrew, with his fascination for creatures, almost bought it, but Anne-Marie had knocked some sense into him.

"Then I suggest one of us goes and pays him a little visit. We're going to have a lot of work to do. We'll owl you all and tell you, but now some of us have other things to talk about, and I daresay there's only a half-hour left until curfew. Remus, Neville, Tonks, and Luna, could you please stay behind?" Mr. Weasley said, and called goodbye to the rest of the people, who were slowly leaving the room.

Petra wanted to stay, and could tell Anne-Marie wanted to as well, but they did need to get home soon, and Andrew was dragging them out, his face serious and tired- looking.

They exited the House of Black and stepped onto the street into the much cooler night air.