Fame Isn\\\'t Everything

Chapter Eight: Memories

"This is bloody unreal," Ron whispered at her side, and Hermione could only agree. They had run after their younger selves and were watching as they met up with a filthy Harry, Neville, and Tonks.

"Shh," Hermione said quickly when it became apparent her eighteen year old self was going to talk.

"Harry, what's happening?" she asked in harsh whisper, looking absolutely terrified.

Harry was looking at her strangely, the older Hermione noted, something she hadn't noticed back then. He looked heart-broken already. But he managed to pull himself together long enough to spit:

"Voldemort's here. He and his Death Eaters have set fire to the castle."

Tonks gasped. "Is everyone all right? What about the students?"

"The fire didn't do any damage, the castle's made of stone after all. I think it was a diversion." Harry's grim expression broke Hermione's heart in two. He looked far too old for his age and, at the same time, painfully young. "It's time. Ron, we need a strategy."

Hermione looked at her husband who was staring at the conference with his mouth open. She took his hand and gave it a small squeeze. He started, but then smiled weakly at her. They had to remember that nothing could hurt them; it was just a memory.

"Call the Order in," Ron said grimly. "I may have a plan. Where are the Death Eaters?"

"Outside the front gates. Other than the fire, they haven't attacked. I spoke to Minerva and she said that the students have been locked away. Ginny and Luna have gone to get the members of the DA who were still in school."

"What about Dumbledore?" Hermione heard Neville ask.

"He's with the students," Harry said through clenched teeth. Hermione had always wondered about that. He made it sound as if he and Dumbledore had exchanged words. It was the sort of answer that said, "We're on our own."

Young Ron's brow was furrowed in deep thought. He glanced at Hermione and then Harry, who at that moment was looking at him as though he had just announced he was a Death Eater.

"Harry, you're not going to like this..."

"Don't tell me what I won't like," Harry said curtly. "You know I'll do anything to put an end to this once and for all."

Ron sighed, looking rather upset. "Fine. You'll take Hestia, Kingsley, Elphias and Bill and make a sweep through the forest behind them. They'll be expecting that, of course, which is why Tonks, Neville, Fred, and George are going to come towards them from the right of the castle. Hermione, you'll make a sweep with Remus, Dad, Moody, Emmeline from the left, but I want you to hold back until my signal."

"But Ron," the younger Hermione said, her eyes wide, "where will you be?

"Chess game," Ron murmured, looking only at her. When she caught his meaning, she gasped.

"What, no!"

Harry looked equally furious, and only now, as a detached observer, could Hermione see that he also looked terrified.

"Ron, don't be an idiot! You are not going to sacrifice yourself to Voldemort for us! This isn't some stupid set of obstacles! You're more valuable alive than dead."

"Valuable?" Ron repeated. "I'm a commodity, is that it, Potter?"

Hermione remembered how horror-struck she had been that Ron had called Harry by his last name. Tension was thick by that point.

"That isn't what I meant, Weasley, and you know it." Harry's eyes were flashing dangerously, and Hermione shut her eyes, knowing what was going to happen next. "And who put you in charge anyway?"

"You did, two minutes ago!" Ron snarled. Neville and Tonks watched with open astonishment, and Hermione attempted to intercede.

"That's enough," she snapped. "Not now. Do this later, if you must, but now we have to work together. And you know it. Ron, don't you dare even think about sacrificing yourself, because I won't hear of it, and, Harry, you asked Ron for his strategy, so let's give him a chance."

Both boys fell into sudden silence. Neither made the move to apologise, and wouldn't, Hermione remembered sadly. Not even when it was over.

"If you'd have let me finish," Ron said, more snidely than was necessary, "I could have told you that I simply meant my team would draw them out from the forest and capture their pawns, if you will."

"I would have done it, you know." Startled, Hermione realised it was her husband Ron who was speaking now. He shot her a wan smile, obviously upset by having to relive that moment. And there were worse ones. "I would have sacrificed myself to Voldemort if it meant keeping the two of you safe. Even though Harry was acting like a berk."

"All that time he knew," Hermione moaned into her hands. "How horrible. I feel just awful, he knew about us, and he was already so angry."

He looked at her, frowning. "It's his fault for being a pillock. He didn't have to act that way just because his two best friends shared a kiss, which we both later agreed was inappropriate."

"Harry had the weight of the world on his shoulders. We only added to that stress, something he couldn't afford," Hermione argued.

"Don't start defending him again," warned Ron. "I know what we did back then was a mistake, but he blew it completely out of proportion."

Stunned, Hermione couldn't help but ask, "You think that kiss was a mistake?"

His expression softened. "A mistake for that time, not a mistake altogether. We both agreed that it wasn't the right moment. And the bloody right moment didn't come for several more years. Wait, I think we're moving."

Harry went one way while Tonks and Neville and Hermione and Ron went another. It would be the last time they'd see each other that closely until the battle ended.

The adult Ron and Hermione were forced to follow the younger Hermione as it was her memory. They watched as Ron gave her hand a quick squeeze before running off into the forest leaving her quite alone.

She wasn't alone long however, when Remus appeared at her side, followed shortly by Emmeline Vance and Mad-Eye Moody.

"We just heard," Remus said, slightly out of breath. "Arthur's been detained, he'll be all right. Come with us."

Ron and Hermione followed the rag-tag group as they hid alongside the castle. The rain had put out the fire, and the fire itself had done little damage. They held their breath, waiting for Ron's signal. Voldemort had instructed his Death Eaters to make a circle around him, and his attention was focused on the front doors of the school.

"It's time to stop hiding behind school children, Dumbledore," Voldemort said mockingly.

Two grunts indicated that two Death Eaters had been stunned. As Voldemort turned to wonder why two of his men had seemed to drop dead of exhaustion, there was a high pitched whistle, then a burst of phoenix song. The signal.

It was pure chaos.

All of Hermione's confidence fled as she leapt into the fray, and all of Ron's plans went up in smoke as the Order members began to run around in a frenzy, stunning practically anything that moved. The Death Eaters were not being quite so kind, and had started hurling hexes at the first sign of movement from the opposition. Voldemort laughed and kept his concentration on the doors of Hogwarts.

Hermione watched as she ducked a nasty-looking blue bolt of light and shot off a Jelly-Legs jinx at Augustus Rookwood. She tripped and fell face first into the dirt, and Hermione wanted to call out a warning to her young self, but held back. A second later she rolled over just in time to avoid the Cruciatus curse sent her way by Lucius Malfoy.

As she scrambled away to the relative safety of the forest, she was hit in the back by an unknown curse and went flying, crashing into some shrubbery a distance away. Everything went dark.

The memory wavered slightly, without disappearing entirely, and suddenly Hermione and Ron were faced with what Hermione remembered upon waking. She had been pulled away by Remus, she thought, and they were hiding some distance from the castle. Several Order members were dead, but she had been relieved to see that Harry and Ron weren't among the bodies. Others had been captured and were being held magically by other Death Eaters. A couple of Death Eaters lay stunned on the ground, but Hermione wasn't sure if any were dead. She knew that morally the Order (with the possible exception of Moody) had a difficult time reconciling killing Death Eaters, but at least then you knew your enemy wouldn't get up and curse you in the back.

Voldemort was ranting at Dumbledore who stood serenely in the door way of Hogwarts.

"Your days are at an end, you old fool. Soon you will be gone; who will protect them then?" He waved a hand at the castle and the captured Order members. "They can't protect themselves. Who will save them when you're dead?"

"I will."

Hermione's heart broke as she watched Harry, poor mud-splattered, exhausted, bloody Harry, come out of the forest, looking at Voldemort with all the hatred he could muster. His limbs were quivering from the tiring efforts of keeping himself upright.

He limped toward Voldemort and repeated: "I will."

But Voldemort simply waved his wand and Harry was thrown back into the arms of a waiting Death Eater. Immediately struggling, he was frozen in place, but still able to observe all that transpired. Hermione shut her eyes, not wanting to watch what would happen next, but she opened them again, unable to resist the pull.

"Do be quiet, Potter. I'll deal with you in time. It is not your turn." Turning back to Dumbledore he said, "The time has come, Dumbledore. Your pathetic little band is depleted. You can't possibly win."

Dumbledore's voice was calm and even as he called back from within Hogwarts. "And you know better to challenge me here, Tom. You can't defeat me while I'm on Hogwarts soil, here I have a power far greater than any you will ever know. The strength of the school itself is behind me."

"I know," said Voldemort contemptuously. "Which is why I have no intention of battling you here. We will duel on my territory, the site of my triumph."

For the first, and last time ever, Hermione heard Dumbledore laugh with what she thought was scorn.

"And what makes you think I'd agree to such a preposterous situation?"

"Now that's an interesting question," Voldemort mused. "And the answer is that for ever minute you remain in your little hidey-hole, I will kill one of your precious students. Let's begin."

And from out of nowhere, he flung his wand out and shouted, "Accio!"

Poor little Dennis Creevey. He must have been looking for his brother, Hermione remembered. He went flying over towards Voldemort, landing with a thump before him. Squeaking, he tried to flee, but Voldemort held him where he was. Hermione, her memory, Ron and his memory, as well as Harry and the members of the Order who were still alive, all watched with utter horror as Voldemort screamed the words they had come to dread.

There was a flash of green light and Dennis was dead.

There was a cry of anger, coming from Colin Creevey, Hermione realised. Harry looked as if he wanted to scream and be sick in the same instant, but was unable to move.

Voldemort's wand whipped out again, and Hermione watched as her younger self ducked back into her hiding place, remembering how fast her heart had been beating, how cold she felt at the sight of that poor pathetic looking little body. She retched, and Remus placed a hand on her arm, warning her not to make a sound.

The Ron who she was married to was watching the scene, horrified, his skin a shade paler than usual. She looked for his younger self, but couldn't see him. Knowing that he would come to Harry's side soon, she continued to watch, unable to do anything else as Voldemort's wand whipped about, faster than the speed of light.

"How many will die, Dumbledore?" Voldemort asked as Susan Bones collapsed at his feet, lifeless. "How many until you come to your senses?"

"Enough."

Dumbledore's voice rang out, cold and furious. "I will meet with you, Tom, and end this once and for all."

Only now, as an impartial observer, did Hermione see how Dumbledore stared straight at Harry, his expression impassive. Harry's expression, however, was far from blank; he looked murderous, and Hermione wondered if Dumbledore knew that.

"Very well. You know where."

"You'll excuse me, I'm sure," Dumbledore replied with a trace of his old jocularity, "if I insist you and your followers depart first."

"But-" questioned a faceless Death Eater. Voldemort held up a hand to silence him.

"We needn't worry, he will keep to his word. He's far too noble to break a promise."

"What about Potter?" asked the Death Eater holding him. Lucius Malfoy, Hermione knew with sickening certainty.

"He'll be a good boy and stay here," Voldemort said, his tone ringing with mockery. "After all, someone has to watch over the children."

And Voldemort disappeared, defying the rule that one can't Apparate or Disapparate on school grounds. Immediately afterwards his Death Eaters disappeared as well. Harry fell to the ground with a thud, and after someone undid the spell holding him in place, he got shakily to his feet and faced Dumbledore, who was quietly instructing Professors McGonagall and Vector to take the two bodies of Dennis and Susan inside.

Creeping out of their hiding places, the younger Hermione and Ron approached Harry, but he was only staring at Dumbledore, a mixture of horror and anger in his voice.

"You can't do this," he said roughly. "What are you thinking?"

"Harry, you knew this day would come. You have to protect the students. The Order."

"NO!" screamed Harry. Ron and Hermione winced, but didn't move from his side. "I won't let you do something so...so...STUPID! He'll kill you! Don't you get it? He knows everything! Everything! He'll break you!"

Dumbledore smiled slightly. "I'm disappointed you don't have more confidence in my abilities, Harry."

"I can't watch this," Ron said hoarsely at Hermione's side, gripping her fingers very tightly. "I can't watch him go off to his death again."

She buried her face in his shoulder, but that didn't prevent her from hearing Harry's response.

"I don't. I always thought you were the greatest wizard alive. I told that to everyone. I even told Voldemort. But you're nothing but a fraud. Just like Lockheart. If you're so great, why did he come here today? How could you let him kill like that?"

Harry was practically shrieking now. It began to rain again. Lightly at first, but the splatter of raindrops grew increasingly heavier as Harry's rant grew louder.

"YOU'LL DIE IF YOU FACE HIM NOW!" Harry bellowed. "YOU CAN'T DO THIS TO US! YOU CAN'T LEAVE US!"

"I'm sorry you feel that way," Dumbledore said softly. "Now if you'll excuse me, I have an appointment."

"THAT'S ALL YOU CAN SAY?" shouted Harry, oblivious to the rain pouring down his face. Dumbledore continued to walk off the grounds. "You're just leaving us then? What about them?" He flung a hand up towards the castle, where terrified faces were peering out of windows. Dumbledore's gaze didn't leave Harry's face when he turned for one last time to look at the school he loved. "DON'T THEY MEAN ANYTHING TO YOU?"

"Harry." Hermione didn't remember this part, but she must have heard it subconsciously. "You know that I have to do this. You know why. Be who you were meant to be. Keep them safe when I cannot. But don't let your anger with me distract you from your duty to your friends. You'll need them desperately before this is over."

And with those final words, he was gone. Tears mixed with raindrops dripped down on young Hermione's face. The older Hermione's eyes weren't dry either, and she began to sob.

"I never got to say goodbye," she sniffled. Ron took her hand.

"I know," he whispered. "I know."

Then the image dissolved into vapour, and Hermione couldn't see herself or Ron, though she felt the reassuring grip of his hand and knew he was still with her.

"What's going on?" asked Ron as the picture came back and they were suddenly in a different place.

"This is later, another memory," Hermione gasped. They were still outside Hogwarts. Harry had made sure the students were safe. He had tried to go after Dumbledore, but the others wouldn't let him. Dumbledore didn't return. "Oh, no, not this..."

~~~

"We'll have to move headquarters, you know."

Harry jumped and swore; he hadn't heard Ginny approach from behind him. Now she came striding into his bedroom and took a seat opposite him.

"Yes, I sort of assumed that," said Harry sarcastically, "since what is supposed to be the meeting place of a secret organisation has become Kings Cross Station."

"These are people we're supposed to be inducting into the Order, Harry. But we're running out of slips of paper with Dumbledore's instructions on them. We have to move."

"Where exactly to?" Harry was on edge; he didn't mean to be so snappish with Ginny.

"Well," Ginny hesitated, "don't get upset, but I thought...Hogwarts."

Harry's expression immediately darkened. "No."

"But it's the most logical place," Ginny argued. "At least for a little while until we can set up more permanent headquarters. It's the summer holidays so the students and teachers are gone, it's Unplottable, has anti-Apparation wards, and Minerva is Headmistress."

"I don't care," said Harry coldly. Ginny flinched. "Damn it, Ginny, I swore I'd never return to Hogwarts, and I intend to keep that promise at least. Besides, that castle is just as easy to infiltrate as this place. Have you so easily forgotten what happened the last time we were there?"

Now Ginny looked as if he had hit her. "I told you I was under a spell."

"That's not what I'm talking about. I'm referring to the fact that Voldemort and his Death Eaters Apparated and Disapparated on Hogwarts grounds, which was something I had been repeatedly informed for the previous seven years was impossible to do. Assuming that we're dealing with Death Eaters, do you really think they've forgotten what Voldemort taught them?"

"And do you think that Minerva is an idiot?" Ginny cried, her face flushed. "She called in some of the most powerful wizards and witches of our age and repaired all the damage including the anti-Apparation wards!"

Harry rubbed his head and moaned. "I can't think like this. Everyone's watching me every second. I can feel their eyes on me constantly. They're waiting for me to do something brilliant and save the day. Well, I've got news for them: I don't have a bloody clue what I'm doing."

"Of course you do," Ginny scoffed. "Don't be ridiculous. That isn't what's bothering you, Harry. You're upset because it seems to you that everyone's gone off and lived without you. Which, may I just point out, is exactly what you wanted in the first place."

He couldn't stand the accusatory tone in her voice and got out of his chair storming down the stairs. Ginny followed him, unrelenting in her tirade. She reached out and grabbed his sleeve before he could escape.

"I saw the look on your face when you found out Ron and Hermione were married. Don't tell me that didn't bother you."

Giving in, Harry said in a voice that sounded suspiciously like a whine, "They betrayed me again! It wasn't bad enough that when I needed them the most they were together without me, now they've made that arrangement permanent!"

It took him a moment to realise Ginny was laughing at him.

"Stop that," he ordered her, flushing Weasley-Red.

"I'm sorry," replied Ginny, gasping for breath. "But you sound so idiotic!"

"Everyone, everything's so different, Ginny." Harry shuddered. Despite having lived in virtual isolation for so many years, he found the walls of Twelve Grimmauld Place confining and claustrophobic. He wanted out of there as badly as the others did, if not more so, but not if it meant returning to the scene of his greatest failure.

"Of course they are, silly." Ginny's expression softened, and she did something unexpected; she hugged him tightly. Harry was instantly reminded of being hugged by Mrs. Weasley, but then decided this hug was quite unlike any he had received from the Weasley matriarch. "Harry, I saw your place. You're living in the past, my boy. Everyone else, they've forced themselves to move on, it was the only way they could keep living, the only way they could survive what happened. But you, you...you revel in it! You're obsessed by it, and you won't get past it, so the whole world is changing while you're staying still. You have to grow up, Harry."

After nearly saying, 'But I don't want to!' Harry reconsidered. "Maybe you're right. It's just...I've lived this way for so long. I don't know how to change. And I'm not ready to accept that other people have had these lives I know nothing about."

"If it's any consolation," Ginny said with a secretive smile, "no one else knew Ron and Hermione were married, either. Let's start with me. I was married, I was stupid, but I was making choices, Harry. A part of me got married because Ken had absolutely no connection to the disaster. He was my fresh start. And maybe now I'm divorced, and being framed for kidnapping, but at least it's a change."

"Speaking of your being framed," Harry said, leaning against the wall, bumping his head on the head of a deceased House Elf, "shouldn't you be preparing for your trial?"

"After lunch," answered Ginny. "But I think I'll go down and join them. Would you like to join me?"

Harry actually considered it, but then shook his head. "I don't think I'm ready. I'm going to speak to Charlie, Tonks, and Angelina."

"All right then, you know where to find me."

I always do,

thought Harry. Outloud he said quickly, "Wait, Ginny, I just need to know one thing."

She turned to him, and for the first time he could really see how much toll the past several days had taken on her. Her eyes looked so old.

"Yes, Harry?"

"What exactly did you do the day before the kidnapping?"

Ginny thought for a moment. "I woke up, and was making bread in the kitchen that afternoon. Dad came down the stairs and we had a...a disagreement about Ken. Then I went to Diagon Alley. Malfoy accosted me in Flourish and Blotts. Then I ran into my old friend Andrea Rudolf. We had drinks in a somewhat dodgy bar...I think it was called the Chimera Cabaret. I got a bit sloshed because we were talking about my divorce which always puts me on edge. I was feeling sick, so I excused myself, Floo-ed home, and promptly fell asleep. When I woke, there were Aurors pounding on my door. And that's it."

"Thanks, I think it's time we start investigating. The time for reunions is over."

Watching his face carefully, Ginny reached up and placed her hand on his shoulder. "Thank you. I know those words are inadequate, but they're the best I can do. For now."

She continued down the stairs ahead of him and disappeared into the living room where the others had gathered, still arguing over what to have for lunch. Harry shook his head and went back upstairs in search of Charlie.

For now.

What did that mean?

Lost in thought, Harry ran straight into Charlie as the latter exited the room that had been given to his sister-in-law and daughter.

"Sorry, Charlie," Harry quickly apologised. "Do you know where Tonks and Angelina are?"

Charlie looked at Harry peculiarly, and Harry tried not to squirm. Of all the people he had been reunited with, other than Ginny he probably felt most comfortable with Charlie. But it was clear that the second-oldest Weasley didn't feel the same.

"They're probably getting lunch, Harry," Charlie replied, though the 'Harry' sounded rather mumbled. "Do you need them for something?"

"Actually, I want the three of you, under Angelina's directions to go undercover to the Manticourt."

"What?" Angelina had come up the stairs behind him. "You're barmy, Harry. I can't take them in there!"

"Why not?" returned Harry. "Clearly you're well known there, from what Neville told us. And you can handle yourself. Besides, they'll be disguised. Fellow vampire hunters."

"But--" Angelina began to protest. Charlie interrupted.

"Harry, what is it you expect us to find out?"

"I want to know about Malfoy--and the rest of his cronies. I want to know where they are, what they're up to, and why Malfoy has such a convincing alibi."

Charlie nodded tersely. "Makes sense, there's bound to be someone dodgy enough in there who can answer those questions. And then, of course, we need to know what he's been doing since. And I didn't want to say this in front of Miss Hopkirk, but we don't know who we can trust in the Ministry. Everyone knows that they were in Barnes's back pocket, not to mention how quick they were to use Ginny as a scapegoat."

Angelina finally interjected. "Harry, I can't. I really can't. If I bring them in there, they'll be killed."

Staring at her in a scarily intense manner, Harry smiled slightly. His smile was like ice. "Charlie and Tonks are well-trained, Angelina. I think you can trust them to handle themselves."

She sighed and buried her face in her hands. "You're not getting it. Have you ever been in a place like that?"

His icy smile froze in place. Addressing Charlie he said, "Please go tell Tonks what you're going to do. The mission probably won't take place for another couple days, not until we're sure we can spare you, and until we know the results of the trial. I need to speak to Angelina for a moment."

Angelina didn't seem able to move, and she kept looking at Harry as if expecting him to eat her. She even edged away slightly, and he forced himself to relax, in the hopes of putting her at ease. This was the best lead they had at the moment.

"Angelina," he said softly; she flinched. "I've seen things much worse than a bar in Knockturn Alley."

"The Manticourt isn't just a bar," she retorted, regaining her courage. "Look, Harry, I'm a regular there, I've built up a reputation. But you can bet that Cal will be there and he'll want revenge. If I bring in two...friends, he'll see them as perfect targets."

"Who's Cal?"

"The vampire I staked to save Neville," answered Angelina impatiently. "He'll be back. Until I had to rescue Neville, I hadn't touched him, and because of my, er, reputation he didn't bother me. But now all deals are off. He'll go after Charlie and Tonks."

"And you don't think they can handle themselves?" Harry crossed his arms and leaned against the wall, momentarily closing his eyes. It was almost as if he could hear Sirius's spirit urging him to get out of that maddening house. He stiffened; not if it meant returning to Hogwarts.

"It isn't that!" Angelina looked ready to tear her hair out. "Harry, these are not normal witches and wizards!"

Harry leaned in closely to Angelina and said clearly, "I don't care. I was brought here for a reason, and I intend to do the job I was summoned for. They dragged me out of my life. And now I need information on Malfoy. So you, Charlie, and Tonks are going to the Manticourt and get me that information. Is that clear?"

Angelina's eyes narrowed, and her entire body stiffened. For a moment, Harry felt brief, irrational fear, but then it disappeared and he smiled at her. Tight-lipped, Angelina replied:

"Clear as crystal."

"Good." Without waiting for further information, Harry stalked off to the room assigned to him and slammed the door. He picked up the photograph of himself and his former friends celebrating and shook his head angrily.

Ginny was divorced and being framed for kidnapping. She didn't seem like the girl he knew before, and he didn't know if that was a good thing or not. She was a traitor once, there was every possibility she could be one again.

Ron and Hermione were married. What would he say to them when he saw them again? 'It wasn't enough that you betrayed me when I needed you most, now I find out you've betrayed me over and over every day since then?'

'What happened to my best friends?'

he wondered, thumping his pillows. 'What the hell happened to my life?'

Then he gave up and trudged downstairs and out the front door. No one noticed him leave, which was for the best. He had business to take care of.

~~~

"So this is my son's sister-in-law," Arthur said, taking Ionna's proffered hand. Ionna noticed the tremble in his body, and the way he studiously avoided looking down at the small redhead hiding behind her. She glanced around the oddly shaped house, wondering how much, if at all, it had changed since her brother-in-law had lived there. There was an emptiness in the house that she found frightening.

Smiling softly to allay any fears, Ionna replied, "It's an honour to meet you, Mr. Weasley. Charlie has told me many things about you."

"All positive, I hope. And do call me Arthur." He smiled, as if he were making a joke, but the atmosphere was still very tense. For no good reason, Ionna thought.

It was time to shake things up. This man had a right to see his grandchild, and Ionna had wanted to be the one to take Katelyn to see her grandfather. Charlie had argued, but his heart wasn't in it, being otherwise occupied.

"Very well, Arthur. I have someone here I would like to introduce you to."

His eyes filled with tears as Ionna ushered her niece in front of her, her heart tightening at this meeting because she was playing a role she did not belong in. It should be Sofiya here today, not her, a poor substitute.

"Lynsha, this is your grandfather, your papa's father. Why don't you give him a hug?"

Overcome by shyness, Katelyn had to be pushed ahead. But when she reached Arthur, he pulled her into a hug and onto his lap, and she started to laugh, chattering like a little bird. Arthur looked up at Ionna with shining eyes and one of the most beautiful smiles she had ever seen.

"I'll let the two of you get to know each other," Ionna said, bowing out of the room. She stood back behind the doorway, out of sight of Katelyn so the little girl would have time to adjust to this new person in her life. Katelyn didn't seem to be having any trouble, but Ionna realised she was having more than a little trouble letting go.

"Are you Charlie's wife?"

Ionna spun on her heels and came face to face with a beautiful blonde woman with ice blue eyes. Clearly not a Weasley, but then what was she doing in Arthur's house?

"Do not be alarmed," the woman said, her French accent soft. "I am Fleur Delacour."

"Oh," Ionna breathed, her relief palpable. "Charlie has spoken of you. You are his brother Bill's wife."

A shadow crossed the beautiful woman's face, and her smile was full of regret. "Non, I am only 'is amour. You must be Charlie's wife."

Now it was Ionna's turn to look sad. "No. I am her sister, Sofiya was Charlie's wife."

"Was?" Fleur covered her mouth with her hand, looking away in embarrassment. "I am so sorry."

Moving to a chair in the living room and gesturing for Fleur to join her, Ionna shook her head and allowed herself to laugh.

"You don't have to be, it was an easy mistake to make, just as I assumed you were married to Charlie's brother."

The corners of Fleur's mouth turned up in amusement. "You are not ze first to wish it to be so."

There was silence between the two women, each reflecting on her situation. Somehow each woman realised she had found a kindred spirit in the other. They were two women in a world that was not theirs, with no idea how to properly behave, each longing to return to the place where life made sense.

Fleur was the first to break the silence. "Your niece, she is beautiful."

Ionna glanced into the other room and nearly laughed at the picture. It was a painting of perfect innocence with Arthur asleep in his easy chair and Katelyn napping on his chest.

"She is, isn't she?" Ionna agreed. "The hair is Weasley red, but she looks so very much like her mother."

It took Ionna a moment to recognise the emotion in Fleur's expression as she gazed at Katelyn as longing. If she desired children, then why had she not married Bill? They had certainly been together long enough that it was a logical conclusion. Perhaps she didn't realise herself that this was what she wanted.

"It is reasonable for you to wish for a child," Ionna blurted, taking a chance. The shock was apparent in Fleur's eyes, but then the look softened.

"I do not know if you know zis, but I am part veela," said Fleur softly.

"I had guessed," Ionna admitted.

"Then you understand why I will never have children."

If Fleur expected her to argue and demand to know what being a veela had to do with having children, she would be disappointed. Instead Ionna said softly:

"You cannot deny yourself what will make you happy simply because you are afraid of losing it. Loss is a part of life. But even if you have it for one minute, it is worth it."

Looking up from her clasped hands, Fleur stared, and Ionna stood up and moved to her side, putting an arm around her shoulders.

"You will make mistakes," Ionna said, looking not at Fleur but at Katelyn. "And there will be times when you are angry. But you will get something in return that makes all the hard times seem like smoke. Allow yourself that joy."

"Are you some sort of guardian angel?" Fleur asked, streams of water running down her cheeks and nose.

Ionna laughed. "No. I am a friend."

~~~

Half-smiling to herself, Emily returned to the Ministry.

Somehow in the few hours since she had been gone, the place had become even more chaotic. Witches and wizards from every department ran around shouting about lost memos and escaped convicts. Sitting down at her desk with a sigh, Emily attempted to shut out the noise. She wasn't, however, successful, as an irate Natalie McDonald began to yell at her.

"Where have you been? The Minister has been looking everywhere for you! You have a job to do here, Emily, for Merlin's sake. The rest of us can't do your job for you!"

She looked as if she were about to cry. Emily stood up and placed an arm around Natalie's shoulder, guiding her to the staff room and fixing her a cup of tea. Two sugars, no lemon. Emily had become very good at serving tea.

"Relax, Natalie," Emily said sternly. Despite the obvious flaw of being a Gryffindor, Emily rather liked Natalie McDonald who was dedicated to her work and proof that a woman could reach great heights in the Ministry without sleeping with anyone. "I'm here, for a little while at any rate, I'll just go see the Minister. Drink your tea, it will make you feel better."

Honestly,

Emily thought as she made her way to the Minister's office, if this entire situation can even cause Natalie to lose control, we're in more trouble than I thought.

She knocked quickly on the door to Percy Weasley's office, but entered without waiting for permission. She quickly regretted the rashness of this decision.

"I've told you before, Cho," Percy Weasley shouted, his face as red as his hair. "I'm dealing with a crisis here! The last thing I need to think about is the state of our living room curtains!"

The Minister's wife, Cho Weasley, nee Chang, looked absolutely furious. Her dark eyes were flashing as she tossed some of her shoulder-length black hair over her shoulder. "I don't give a damn about the curtains, Percy! This isn't about some petty domestic affair. What's wrong with me wanting to see my husband once in a while?"

Percy's smile was rather frightening; Emily couldn't seem to move or make a sound, and neither Percy nor Cho seemed to notice her presence.

"We both know this marriage is a sham," Percy said quietly. "So don't attempt to appeal to my softer side by pretending you miss me."

At that moment Emily couldn't take it anymore and cleared her throat. Percy and Cho jumped, turning towards her with identical looks of fury across their faces.

"What is it, Miss Hopkirk?" Percy's tone clearly said, 'If you want to keep your job, you'll forget what it was you just heard.'

Emily stammered, thrown off by the ugly look Cho was giving her. Oh, Merlin, I hope she doesn't think I'm sleeping with the Minister, too!

"I was told you were looking for me, sir." Emily prayed that he'd give her a task to perform outside the office; anything to get out of that uncomfortable situation.

"Right. I need you to make sure that Weasley's trial has been set up." He paused as Cho muttered something under her breath, but ignored her and continued. "I want as little media coverage on this as possible, which, given the circumstances, is going to be difficult, but at least we won't have to deal with Rita. And find Pritchard, would you? I've got delegates from Germany in conference room 59 and no translator."

"As you wish, sir," Emily said, backing up towards the knob and fumbling with the knob. She had one foot out the door when she caught the words of the Minister's wife.

"You know, if you're not careful, Percy, she might start to suspect something."

Those words rang in Emily's ears as she moved towards the lift and the golden grilles slid shut. Several inter-office memos fluttered above her head and she tapped her foot impatiently as the lift finally stopped at level two.

She spoke quickly to the secretary seated out in front of the Wizengamot Administration Services office about Ginny's trial, then got back on the lift and stopped off on the fifth level to see if Natalie had calmed down at all.

"Emily, I need you to write a few owls and then speak to Wells over in Magical Games and Sports and tell him he is not to, under any circumstances, cancel next week's Quidditch match just because Barnes is missing."

Apparently not.

"Sure, fine," Emily placated. Then she took the dishevelled Natalie by the elbow and guided her to an empty chair. "Natalie, when was the last time you slept?"

"When was Barnes kidnapped?" Natalie replied, rubbing her eyes. "For that matter, what day is it?"

"That's it, you need to go home and get some sleep."

"Can't, I'm needed here. Which reminds me, have you seen Pritchard? The Germans in the conference chambers are demanding something, it sounds like they want a pair of ladies knickers, but that can't be right."

Emily stopped suddenly. Pritchard was suddenly the man of the hour and he was also nowhere to be found, fairly unusual for the Senior Undersecretary to the Minister of Magic. If nothing else Pritchard enjoyed sticking his nose where it didn't belong and could usually be found pestering the interns.

"This can't be good," Emily said under her breath. Natalie was staring at her expectantly, so she elaborated. "I was sent to find Pritchard by the Minister. When was the last time anyone saw him?"

"Who knows? I can't keep track of anyone in this maze." Natalie brushed some of the hair from her eyes and exhaled deeply. "Come on, I think I know where he might be. There's a female team of American Quodpot players in MacMurphy's office. And while we're there, we'll talk to Wells. I can't let you go talk to that lecher by yourself."

They took the lift to level seven, and Natalie burst down the hallway, dragging Emily along in her wake. They came to a halt before the Quidditch League office, and Natalie pushed it open without knocking.

"Pritchard, are you in here, you rotten bastard?"
There was no sign of him, but Emily held a finger to her lips and motioned Natalie forward towards a closed door. It was the office of Barnaby Wells, the head of Magical Games and Sports. But from the sound of it, he wasn't alone.

"There's not going to be an investigation, is there?"

That was Wells, one of the worst cowards Emily had ever had the misfortune to come across. Worse, he was a gambler and a drunkard. No one had any idea what he was still doing working for the Ministry, especially since he had a list of infractions a mile long to his name. The rumour around the building was that the Minister owed him a favour. A huge favour.

"Of course not. Not unless we want one. Look, Wells, I have everything under control. You've done your part, so don't worry."

That was Graham Pritchard. What was he up to? Emily leaned closer, hoping her shadow didn't show through the fogged glass in the door.

"There's anarchy on the streets, Pritchard," Wells was saying. "How can I do my job? If I allow the teams to play Quidditch, there'll be a riot on the pitch. That's bad for, ah, business."

"You mean your betting." Pritchard sounded disgusted. "If you want something to bet on, bet on Barnes."

Natalie gasped, and Emily covered her mouth to stifle the sound. There was a pause inside the office, but apparently Pritchard didn't hear anything else, because he didn't open the door.

"What do you mean?" asked Wells. Emily could almost see his face, giddy with the prospects.

"I mean, it won't be long now before Barnes is back."

"So you don't think he's dead, then?"

"Of course not. Now, before I go, I want to make sure we're clear about Weasley."

Emily froze. Damn Molly and Arthur for having seven children; which one was he talking about? 'Come on, give me a pronoun,' she chanted silently.

"I know, I know. If things go south at the trial, then she'll be receiving the package. I don't see why you get to have all the fun, and I'm forced to play postal service." Wells sounded like a petulant child whinging for a sweet.

"You just do your job. Leave the anarchy and the Minister to me."

Pritchard was starting for the door, and Emily realised if she and Natalie were caught listening outside, they were as good as dead. Pritchard was clearly working for the other side; they had a spy in their midst! Worse, there wasn't anything she could do about it. He hadn't said anything truly incriminating.

As the knob began to turn, Emily shot a panicked look at Natalie. Natalie appeared stunned, but she managed to keep it together as she always did, and quickly raised her hand to knock on the door.

The two men on the other side paused, clearly startled. Then Emily heard Wells's reedy voice.

"Who is it?"

"Natalie McDonald and Emily Hopkirk. We need to discuss Quidditch with you, Wells."

There was some hushed whispering, and the door opened, with Pritchard backing out of it, waving behind him to Wells.

"Thanks for the tips on Portree, Barnaby," Pritchard said. Then he turned and looked at Natalie and Emily as if surprised to see them. "Hello, ladies. I was just on my way back to the office."

Emily had never been afraid of Pritchard before, and she didn't like that she was afraid of him now. Behind his grin was something dangerous that told her it would be a bad idea to give any indication they'd been eavesdropping.

"There are German ambassadors in conference room 59, Pritchard," Emily managed to say, her voice sounding squeaky to her own ears. "The Minister sent me to find you to speak with them."

"Right, thanks, love, I'm on my way." Pritchard grinned again, and patted Natalie on the shoulder. She flinched visibly. "See you later, ladies."

He disappeared quickly, and Natalie turned her attention to Wells, who was not as good as Pritchard at pretending nothing was amiss.

"Don't cancel Quidditch," Natalie said quickly. "Minister's orders."

"Right," Wells said dumbly. He retreated to his office, and Emily grabbed Natalie's arm, dragging her away from the Games and Sports department.

"Come on," she said, pulling a reluctant and confused Natalie along. "Grab your coat, there are some people you have to meet."

~~~

"First question: is there any mustard?"

Ginny snorted. "You're supposed to be preparing me for my trial. I doubt Harry would be pleased to find out that you're more concerned with the state of your sandwich, Mad-Eye."

Mad-Eye Moody shrugged unevenly. It was amusing to watch the man function, Ginny thought. He was completely lopsided. But a loyal and brave man to the last; she was fortunate to have him on her side. That was a sobering thought, and the persistent image of Moody in those ridiculous pants Luna put him in finally fled.

"I don't think you need much in the way of preparation, Weasley. You know what you have to say."

Rolling her eyes, Ginny dutifully repeated, "I was out in Diagon Alley all afternoon, had drinks with a friend, became sick, returned home, and fell asleep."

"You might want to leave out the eye-rolling," Remus suggested through a mouthful of corned beef. He swallowed. "Sorry."

Minerva sighed. "Ginny, it isn't just a matter of what your alibi is. You know as well as we do that you can't prove you were home when Barnes was kidnapped. You have to be ready to face questions about your past."

"Minerva, I can handle that," Ginny insisted. "I'm not afraid of my past anymore."

The half-truth of that statement made her flinch inwardly. It was true that she wasn't afraid of her past, but she was still ashamed of it. Worse, she had no way to prove that she had been possessed, or under a spell back then. No one would have ever believed her about the diary incident if Dumbledore hadn't come forward about it, but there was no one who could attest to the fact that the echoes of that possession lingered long afterward. Except, perhaps, Voldemort, and he was long dead.

The only thing Ginny truly feared anymore was that someone else could come along and use her the same way "Tom" had. Drudge up that old connection between them, and make her dance like a puppet. She wouldn't let that happen. She could still remember the icy feeling, the way her limbs froze, but her mind burned. Ginny shuddered. Never again.

Remus wiped his mouth with a napkin and leaned back in his seat, stretching and wincing. "You may not be afraid, Ginny, but everyone else is. And I hadn't wanted to tell you this, but I suppose I'd better. I met with Percy shortly after you summoned me."

The remains of Ginny's sandwich fell from her limp fingers. She hadn't thought about Percy since before her arrest. She'd almost forgotten her elder brother was the Minister of Magic.

"And?" she asked tightly.

"He was a prick," Remus said plainly. Ginny's fists tightened. "Don't expect any kindness from him. And he has the influence to turn the court against you."

"Who's the Head of Magical Law Enforcement these days?" Ginny asked.

"Amelia Bones's son, actually," Moody said. "Nero Bones. Clever little bugger, a lot like his mother."

Ginny moaned and buried her face in her hands. "That's not good, not good at all."

"Why?" Moody asked, sounding surprised. "He's not a bad man. Bit harsh, perhaps, but ultimately fair. You could do worse."

But Ginny was remembering someone else by the name of Bones. "Don't you remember one of the casualties of our last battle with Voldemort? One of the two students who was supposed to be safe inside the castle, but was killed as a message for Dumbledore?"

"Susan Bones," Minerva breathed, her eyes watering slightly at the seven year old memory.

Nodding, Ginny looked at Moody. "Nero's first cousin, I'm thinking. I'm also thinking he might have reason to blame me for his cousin's death."

"You don't think he'll be biased on that account!" Remus looked appalled. "It's not as if you turned your wand on her yourself."

Ginny was amused by Remus's forceful encouragement. To think only a few short days ago he was almost terrified by her. Now, she thought, he would defend her honour, to the death perhaps, if necessary.

"I think it's a possibility," she admitted. "I'll just have to be prepared for that eventuality. So they'll ask me questions about that day, about my connections with Malfoy and the Death Eaters, ha, that sounds like a band name. Then they'll ask me questions about the Order. What do I say? Do I admit we've reformed?"

"No." This came from Minerva almost immediately. "Their questions will probably be in the past tense, but by no means give an indication that the Order still exists. Several people will probably be called in to be character witnesses, but no one should reveal the nature of the Order. We will only accomplish what we came back together to do if we can do it privately. Should the Ministry, or, Merlin forbid, the Death Eaters, learn that we mean to find Barnes, only catastrophe will come from it."

Minerva made an excellent point, but it still bothered Ginny that she would have to hold back at her trial. Lying was not something she was particularly comfortable with anymore.

"It just occurred to me," Ginny said, her eyes widening. "Who's to be my barrister?"

Moody, Minerva, and Remus all exchanged a glance.

"He didn't tell you?" Remus asked uncertainly.

"Who didn't tell me what?" Ginny asked, now deeply suspicious.

"Ron agreed to represent you at tomorrow's trial," Remus told her. He didn't sound as if he thought it were a good idea. "It's what he does for a living apparently."

"Oh." Ginny wasn't sure how to react at that news. It was startling, to say the least. And how was Ron supposed to defend her if he didn't entirely trust her? They'd already come along way to repairing the bridge between them, but construction was far from completed. "Speaking of my brother, has anyone seen him or my new esteemed sister-in-law lately?"

~~~

Ron's eyes widened in terror and his mouth went slack. "No. Not here."

Their younger selves were separated with Ron down on his knees, his hands behind his back and Peter Pettigrew's wand at his neck. Blood was spilling from a wound on his forehead and another on his neck. His shirt was already a quilt of bloody patches. A struggling Hermione was being held by Rodolphus Lestrange, her face a mess of blossoming bruises, and Harry was squared off against Voldemort once again.

To Hermione now it was a ludicrous picture. She and Ron stood in the middle of a battle field surrounded by both their comrades and fallen Death Eaters, watching as the same events unfolded as they had before, unable to do a thing to stop the oncoming disaster.

Harry's wand was out in front of him, his grip so tight that his knuckles began to whiten, but he was not firing curses. Voldemort's own wand was held loosely at his side, but neither did he make a move against Harry.

"Do you think you can kill me, Potter? Do you have it in you, the hate, the anger that the Killing Curse requires? I greatly doubt it."

Harry kept his chin up as he stared into the face of Voldemort. "No, perhaps not. But I have something else. I have my friends. I have love, a power you can't even begin to comprehend."

Voldemort's face contorted into a grotesque grin. "Do you really then? Look around you, Potter. Your friends are either dead or have deserted you. You place your life in their hands? Then you're as good as dead. Look behind you. This boy and girl, you believe that they care for you? That they'd do anything for you? And what would you say if I told you that they had already betrayed you?"

Harry half turned to stare at Ron. Ron met his gaze steadily, though the adult Hermione could see the pain in both boys' eyes. Silently Ron begged Harry not to listen, but Hermione was certain that all Harry was seeing was Ron and Hermione together, without him, and she wanted to go to him, to tell him that they still loved him. Ron's grip on her hand grew so tight she began to lose feeling, but paid it no attention, her gaze locked on the ghastly scene.

Turning to Hermione, tears sprung in Harry's eyes, to her great horror. Hermione could hear herself gasp. After staring at her for several seconds, Harry finally brought his attention back to Voldemort.

"They're still my friends. They're on my side." His voice was noticeably more uncertain.

Hermione tried to shut her eyes at this point, but couldn't. Voldemort's grin became positively triumphant.

"I wanted to say so much to him," Ron said angrily. "I just didn't know how. We didn't betray him!"

"It doesn't matter," Hermione retorted, a sickening feeling in her stomach. "He thought we did."

"And if I were to tell you that not all of your little friends had remained so true? That a certain 'friend' of yours has switched alliances?"

This was the moment that Hermione had gladly locked away in her Pensieve, refusing to remember that moment when Voldemort had crushed Harry's spirit. Harry had survived the Killing Curse, subsequent attacks by Voldemort, a basilisk, dementors, dragons, and so much more, but the scene he was then presented with destroyed him in a way that no one could ever have imagined, except the deranged Dark Lord.

Stepping to the side, Voldemort indicated for one of his followers to step forward. Draco Malfoy lifted away his mask and smirked at Harry, wiping some of the rain from his eyes. At his side, looking serene, was Ginny Weasley. Even what she knew now didn't prevent Hermione from gasping at the sight.

"Hello, Potter," Malfoy said with glee. "You remember Ginny Weasley, of course?"

"I'm sorry, Harry," Ginny said without any appearance of guilt. "This is how it had to be. You won't survive this, he knows everything I know." Her eyes were burning with anger. "You were stupid to trust me, you know."

And Harry visibly sagged, his wand falling from his limp hand. Hermione tensed and bit back a sob, her face crumpling. Voldemort's cold, high laugh rang in her ears, and Ron ran towards the memory of his little sister, though for what purpose, Hermione didn't know.

"Ron, what are you doing?" she asked in strangled tones. "Come back here, they can't see you. You can't change it, this is a memory."

Ron had frozen completely, and she ran to his side, momentarily afraid that he had been harmed.

"I believed her," he said. Hermione wasn't sure what he was referring to. "I thought she had really betrayed us. Our only chance to defeat him lay with her. I...I did just what Sirius did. How could I have been so stupid? I championed her, I told Harry that Ginny would let herself be killed before she betrayed him, that she loved him."

"Ron." Hermione placed her hand on his shoulder. "It's not your fault. It wasn't Ginny's fault. We all underestimated Voldemort's hold on her."

"But I told him to do it. It was my job to make the strategies, Hermione. I thought I was being so damn smart. Who'd ever think to look for a spell hidden in a teenaged girl? But I wasn't clever enough. I wasn't you."

"Me?" Hermione's voice wavered. "I was no better. Who discovered the spell? Who modified it? Who said, 'We ought to hide it so Voldemort has no idea it's coming?' I'm just as much to blame. More so. I should have been watching Ginny that day. I had thought she was acting odd, but put it down to pre-battle jitters."

She looked at Harry, broken, kneeling on the ground, as Voldemort continued to laugh, raising his wand, and Malfoy's arm snaked around Ginny's waist.

"We were too young," she said bitterly as the memory turned to smoke again, and they were carried to another time, another memory. "We never should have been involved. But we thought we were just so special. We thought we were ready. Neville nearly had his head blown off. Luna was slashed open, she almost bled to death. We all nearly died. If it hadn't been for Barnes, we would have. Just because we were lucky before, we thought that made us warriors, ready for anything. We were stupid."

"What memory is this?" asked Ron, not disputing her words because he knew as well as she did that they were true.

Hermione opened her mouth to answer, but then closed it, her brow furrowing. "This is immediately after what we just saw. Harry was about to be killed, and I tried to get to him, but then Barnes and his Militia arrived, and Lestrange hexed me."

They watched in stunned silence as Barnes and the Magical Militia arrived like a cavalry charge, sweeping through the Death Eaters like a tidal wave, blasting everyone and everything in sight. The manoeuvre lacked subtlety, but it was certainly effective. Death Eaters were falling at an astounding rate, and Jack Barnes was tackling Voldemort himself. With a powerful roar, he leapt at Voldemort screaming, "Avada Kedavra!"

"This is all wrong," moaned Ron. "It shouldn't have been him! How could he do what Harry couldn't?"

But Hermione was thinking of something else. She turned to him with a frown. "You're right, this is all wrong." A member of the Militia flew shrieking past her, but she ignored him. "Ron, I was already unconscious by the time this happened. I never saw how Barnes defeated Voldemort."

"Well, now you know," Ron said bitterly.

"No, you don't understand. How can I have a memory of something I didn't see?"

He turned to face her, his mouth hanging open. It occurred to them at the exact same time.

Someone had tampered with her Pensieve.