Secrets Never Last

July 5th, 1980

Arthur Weasley apparated home, coming to rest a few feet from the Burrow. He was tired but was looking forward to a well-cooked meal and some time with his children. He'd only take a couple of steps when he stopped short. Hanging above the Burrow, dripping a sickening green, was something that stopped his heart: a skull with a serpent coming from its mouth.

"No," he whispered, taking a few more steps before breaking into a run. The door to the Burrow was open, or to be more precise, was blasted open, half off its hinges.

"Molly!" he called, coming into the house, his voice becoming more shrill and panicked with each name, "Bill! Charlie! Percy!"

The house looked as if it had been ransacked and over his pounding heart he dimly heard the thin, reedy cry of a small child. He raced up the staircase to find his wife curled protectively around a crying baby. He stopped in the doorway, almost unable to breathe.

Molly lifted her head when she realized there was someone in the room, clutching her crying son then relaxing her grip as she realized it was Arthur. She looked at him, grief etched on every line of her face. "They took him, Arthur; they took my baby boy."

In her lap, crying as if he realized that a part of him was missing, was only one child and Arthur fell to his knees, tears streaming down his face.

~~~~~~~~~~~

July 7th, 1980

The man in the throne-like chair gestured a couple forward. "Have you brought it?"

The couple came near and the man said, "Yes, My Lord," he held up a bottle containing a sickly golden liquid, "just as you said we should prepare it."

"Good," Voldemort said. "I told you when you joined me that I would provide what you wished for and now you will see that I do keep my promises." He motioned another man forward who held a bundle of blankets. "As I promised, a healthy male child of impeccable pureblood lineage."

The woman came forward with outstretched arms to accept the accept the bundle. She spoke softly, directing her words more to the child in her arms, "Oh, my love, we have a child." She came back to her husband and accepted the bottle containing the potion. "Drink, my little one; soon you will be all ours."

The man bowed low, "Thank you, My Lord. We are ever your servants."

"Of course you are," Voldemort chuckled. "Now go, spend time with your child. I shall call for you when I need you."

~~~~~~~~~~

August 3rd, 1980

The young, chestnut-haired man wrinkled his nose. "Are you sure this is a good idea?" He'd never been very good at Potions, being around or making them and this was no exception.

The redheaded girl looked up from the cauldron she was stirring and said, "It's the only way. I won't put either one of them in danger. He's already taking too many chances." She bent back to the cauldron and began counting out seeds, dropping them one by one into the mixture. "...fourteen, fifteen, sixteen." Slowly, the potion turned a sickly golden color and she carefully took it off the fire and ladled a portion into a beaker. "By the time this potion wears off he'll be old enough to understand, and we'll be able to stop the changes if that's what he wants."

"But why tell me?" he asked. "Surely he should know as well. Or better tell--"

"No," she interrupted shaking her head, "the less he knows, the less he has to tell if anything goes wrong. I'm telling you so if anything happens to us you can explain it to him and my son."

He nodded slowly, "Very well, I only wish that all this weren't necessary."

She turned tear-filled green eyes on her companion and said, "So do I . . . so do I."

~~~~~~~~~~

January 12th, 1982

A young man with chestnut hair stood at the top of the hill, watching the dark-haired young man with bowed head next to the gravestones. He sighed heavily, realizing that, despite all that had happened, too many had grown old before their time. He cast his eyes on the grieving man one more time and turned away. His words were snatched away by the slight wind as he whispered, "Get your strength back, old friend. You’ll need it. See you in fifteen years." The next moment, he was gone as if he'd never been there.