The Final Reckoning

Chapter Eleven: The Trial...Interrupted

The skeletally thin man sat straight and tall in his chair; his fingertips were pressed together as he stared, with blood red eyes, into the fire. Now and again she slithered by, hissing as she went, pausing once or twice to lift her head and receive a gentle caress from her master.

'She is late, Nagini,' Voldemort said, his voice oddly high-pitched, and cold as ice. But the words came out as one continuous hiss. The snake undulated her head back and forth, as though she understood what he was saying.

'We might have to punish her,' Voldemort went on, hissing. 'Won't that be fun, my pet? But...she is only a few minutes late. Perhaps...I can be generous--'

There was a knock at the door.

'Enter,' Voldemort called. The door opened. A woman swept in, dressed entirely in black, with a hood over her head. Her face was in shadow. She knelt down at the side of the man's chair, prostrating herself.

'My lord,' she said, in a silky, low voice that was muffled by her bent pose.

'You are late,' he said.

'Forgive me,' said the woman, still kneeling; there was only the slightest tremor in her voice.

'Tell me,' he said.

'It is done,' she said.

'Good,' said Voldemort. He reached down put a thin, skeletal finger beneath the woman's chin and lifted her face up to the light...

'Ron wake up, you lazy prat!'

No, Ron thought. I can't wake up. I'm dreaming about Voldemort and some Death Eater of his, some bird...I have to see her face.

'Ron!'

'Dammit,' Ron groaned, his eyes fluttering open. 'Thanks a lot, Harry. I was in the middle of a dream.'

Harry rolled his eyes. 'Lemme guess. Hermione was in it and she had no clothes on--'

'No,' Ron said angrily, sitting up sharply. 'It was about him. Voldemort.'

'What?' Harry said, his green eyes going wide.

'Shit,' Ron said, rubbing his eyes, and he grabbed his dream diary from his desk and his quill and inkpot.

'Tell me,' said Harry urgently.

'Let me write it down first before I forget it all,' Ron barked, and he quickly began to scrawl as much as he could remember.

Voldemort sitting in a chair...somewhere. Looking at a fireplace. Talking to his creepy giant snake. The woman...

Her voice. Something about her voice. It was resonant, low, elegant. Sexy. She was obviously a Death Eater, but who could she be? And what did she mean by 'It is done'?

'Well?' Harry asked impatiently.

'I dunno,' said Ron, his stomach twisting uneasily. 'Maybe we should include Ginny and Hermione on this.'

'Fine,' said Harry. 'I'll get them.' He started out of the room, when Ron remembered something.

'Hey, mate,' he called. 'Happy Birthday.'

'Thanks, I think,' said Harry. Ron watched him leave.

What a wonderful start to my day. My best mate's birthday and he has to testify against Lucius Bloody Malfoy, and I have another completely inexplicable dream about seriously evil people that may or may not mean anything.

Ron groaned again and flopped back onto his bed, pulling the covers over his head, cursing himself for the millionth time for touching that bloody brain.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

An hour later Ron, Harry, Ginny, Hermione, Percy and Mr. and Mrs. Weasley all Flooed to the Ministry. They were met by Remus Lupin, and together, the lot of them headed to the courthouse, which was attached to the Ministry building underground.

'We're cutting it fine,' Lupin said grimly, checking his watch for the hundredth time, as they hurried along dimly lit corridors. Ron wasn't paying the least attention to where they were going; his mind was still on that woman in the dream, kneeling before Voldemort. He'd told every detail he could remember to Ginny and Hermione, and Hermione had taken it upon herself to write a note to Dumbledore. So far, they hadn't heard back from him.

If only Harry hadn't awakened him before Ron had had a chance to see her face...

'Here we are,' said Lupin, as they rounded a corner. Ron was brought sharply back to earth when he saw the crowd of people gathered round the courtroom door. There were reporters, Ministry police, and civilians, all of them pushing and shoving their way toward the door, which looked to be locked at the moment.

'There he is!' came a shriek, and Ron felt his stomach plummet as a dozen reporters raced toward them.

'Bugger,' he heard Harry mutter under his breath.

And suddenly they were surrounded.

'Harry Potter!' cried one reporter, a short, fat, young wizard who was nonetheless already balding. 'Can you give us a statement--'

'How does it feel to be testifying--'

'Is it true that you fought You-Know-Who again--'

'Back off, you vultures!' Mrs. Weasley shouted, yanking out her wand.

'Come on, Harry, just one comment--'

'No comments!' Lupin shouted above the din.

'We'd like to hear from Harry!' came another voice.

'Yeah, Harry, tell us about--'

Harry shrank behind Ron and seemed to be trying to hide.

'This is the Ministry's idea of security?' Hermione said indignantly, her voice carrying over the noise.

'Leave him alone!' Ginny yelled.

'Harry, the public wants to know--'

'THAT'S ENOUGH!'

The boom of Mr. Weasley's voice cut over the crowd so loudly that many people clapped their hands over their ears.

Ron gaped at his father; he rarely took charge of situations, and now here he was, magically amplifying his voice and shutting people up.

'If the lot of you...journalists don't want harassment charges filed against you,' Mr. Weasley seethed, 'I suggest you let us pass.'

'But--' one reporter began.

'Mr. Potter has no comment,' Mr. Weasley snapped, his magically loud voice ringing. 'Now step aside.'

And to Ron's amazement, they did.

'Wow,' Harry murmured. 'That was impressive.'

'Yeah,' said Ron, grinning at the back of his father's head as Arthur Weasley led them down the corridor to the entrance of the courtroom. 'Fancy that.'

'Hello, Harry.'

The sound of the female voice caused Ron, Harry, Ginny and Hermione to turn. Standing before them, dressed in a flashy dress suit covered by vivid red robes, was none other than Rita Skeeter.

'What do you want?' Harry asked, rolling his eyes.

'Oh, come on,' she purred, tapping her quill against her gaudy glasses. 'I helped you once remember? Now why don't you help me?'

'You helped me,' said Harry, through gritted teeth, 'because Hermione threatened to turn you in. Not because you're a...a good person or anything.'

'Details, details,' said Rita coolly. 'Look, I honoured the deal your girlfriend forced on me. Surely you can throw me a little bone?'

'Harry?' Mr. Weasley called. His voice was no longer amplified, but he gave Rita a very dirty look.

'Not this time, Rita,' said Harry acidly. He turned on his heel and stalked away from her.

'Well, then, plan B,' Rita said, without missing a beat. 'How about the woman in Harry's life. What do you say, Miss Perfect?'

'I'm not Harry's girlfriend,' Hermione said through gritted teeth, 'and I have nothing to say to you.'

Rita shrugged and turned to Ron.

'Forget it, lady,' he said, and he took Hermione's hand in his. Rita didn't even bother asking Ginny anything as the three of them headed for the courtroom entrance.

They didn't have to wait long for the doors to open; when they did, mob mentality took over again, and everyone seemed to be trying to push their way in. Almost at once several Ministry police intervened, allowing Harry, Ron and the others to enter, followed by the reporters, and after that, spectators. In a matter of minutes the courtroom was full.

Ron glanced up toward the front of the room and swallowed, seeing the familiar, pale blond head of Lucius Malfoy. He was seated casually at the defence table, talking to his lawyer.

The woman in my vision, Ron thought. She was sleek and beautiful and dark-haired. Could she be the same woman as the one I saw in my dream?

'Ron,' said Hermione, looking at the woman.

'That's her,' said Ron. 'The one I saw in the vision.'

Ron strained to hear what she and Lucius might be talking about, but it was hopeless, considering all the noise in the room.

Gradually, everyone sat down, but the cacophony of voices went on, vibrant as ever.

'That's Malfoy's lawyer?' Harry groaned, when he got a look at the dark haired woman. 'Wonderful.'

'What?' Hermione asked.

'Hermione, look at the men on the jury,' Ginny said, nodding to the jury box. To a one, every man in the box was staring at the woman representing Lucius Malfoy. With rather obvious lust on their faces.

'Oh,' said Hermione. 'Well...I...I suppose...surely they won't acquit Malfoy because his lawyer is pretty. It's not like she's a Veela.' She paused and then sounded panicked. 'Is she?'

'No, she's just your garden variety gorgeous woman,' said Ron dryly.

'Really?' said Hermione, folding her arms across her chest.

Ron flushed. 'Whereas you, love, are uniquely beautiful and fantastic and magnificent and brilliant. Birds like her have nothing on you, honest,' he said quickly.

Hermione smiled, apparently satisfied. Ron made a mental note to never, ever mention another woman's looks in Hermione's presence again, unless it was to impugn them.

'Is that the prosecutor?' Ginny asked, and Ron followed her gaze to the other table.

'That's him,' said Harry darkly.

Chief Prosecutor D'Amico could not be any older than forty, by the looks of him. He was of average height, but extremely fit and quite handsome, with dark, curly, close-cropped hair, shocking blue eyes, and olive skin.

'He's quite a dish, isn't he?' Ginny said.

'Yes, quite,' said Hermione.

'Hey!' said Ron.

'Just kidding,' she said, smiling. There she went, teasing him again. He really wished they were not in this stupid courtroom. He hadn't been alone with her, really alone, in days. Not since the day after Hermione had snuck into the Burrow to escape her parents. It felt like weeks.

'Shit,' he heard Harry mutter.

'What?' Ron asked, but then he followed Harry's gaze and saw Susan Bones.

'Oh,' said Ron, biting his lip. Susan was not alone; she was with what looked like several relatives, but next to her, holding onto her arm as though he was courting her, was Terry Boot.

'She didn't waste any time, did she?' Harry said glumly.

Ron looked desperately at Ginny.

'Harry, you don't know she's...with Terry,' said Ginny carefully.

'No?' said Harry, and he nodded up at where Susan and Terry were standing. Terry now had his arm round her shoulder and was saying something in her ear, and Susan was nodding. Then Terry planted a kiss on Susan's temple.

'They look pretty cosy to me,' Harry said, and he looked down miserably at his hands.

'Shit, Harry,' Ron mumbled. 'I'm sorry.'

Harry looked up at Susan again, and then quickly looked away.

'Bloody hell,' he groaned. 'She saw me and now she's headed this way.'

'You want to move?' Ron said quickly.

'Forget it,' said Harry, and in the next moment, Susan was there.

Ron had to admit she looked very pretty. Her auburn hair was pulled back in its usual plait, but her cheeks were rosy and her eyes were bright.

And then he scowled. She had no business looking good when Harry was so miserable.

Ron glared up at her, but she ignored him and focused on Harry.

'Hi, Harry,' she said, her voice a bit thin.

He looked up at her. 'Hi, Susan.'

'How are you?' she asked, her face going redder every second; she started to fidget with her hands.

'Great,' Harry said, a bite in his voice. 'I'm just great.'

Susan flushed very red now, and looked down, and for an unbearable, excruciating moment, nobody said a word. The noise of the courtroom couldn't cut through the tension just then.

'Well,' Susan said finally. 'I just...wanted to wish you luck.'

'Thanks,' Harry said dryly; his whole body was rigid and he was clenching his fists.

Go away, you insensitive bint, Ron thought savagely. Can't you see you're hurting his feelings?

'So...I'll see you around,' she said, backing away, smiling weakly. Harry didn't smile back.

'Yeah, sure,' said Harry. ''Bye.'

Her response was to nod and hurry back to Terry Boot.

'Well,' Harry said. 'That was...brutal.'

'Harry...' Hermione said sympathetically.

'Don't,' said Harry at once. Hermione started to speak again, but Ron gave her a look, and she backed off.

'You'll be okay, Harry,' Ron heard Ginny say, and he turned to see his sister lay a hand on Harry's arm.

He didn't flinch. Instead, he seemed to welcome the contact, and he smiled back at Ginny. It was a sad smile, but there was something behind it. Hope? Relief?

Something is definitely going on with those two. But what?

Ron's thoughts were interrupted by a loud voice from the front of the room.

'All rise!' came a loud voice.

Everyone stood up, and Ron followed suit.

'Hear ye, hear ye,' said an Auror stationed at the front of the room, just in front of the massive daïs. 'The Superior Court of the Magical Commonwealth of the United Kingdom is now in session. In the matter of the Commonwealth versus Lucius Malfoy, the Honourable Judge Malik Adham Bashir presiding.'

At this, a small, dark-skinned man with black hair and dark brown eyes entered the room from behind the daïs, carrying what appeared to be a ledger under his arm. He wore heavy, very official looking black robes and he gazed down at the courtroom from his perch on the daïs before taking his seat and opening his mouth to speak.

'Be seated,' he said. 'This court is in session. I understand the Commonwealth wishes for re-direct of their witness.'

The judge spoke in clipped, slightly accented tones as D'Amico stood up.

'Yes, Your Honour,' said D'Amico, his own voice clear and confident. 'If it please the court, the Commonwealth wishes to recall Draco Malfoy to the stand.'

'Any objections?' said Judge Bashir, nodding toward Lucius Malfoy's lawyer.

'No, Your Honour,' the lawyer answered. Her voice was low and smooth. Something tickled at the back of Ron's mind.

'Very well,' said Judge Bashir. 'Bailiff, bring the witness.'

The Auror/Bailiff nodded and strode purposefully to the back of the courtroom; as one the crowd turned to watch him as he vanished through the double doors for a moment before reappearing, this time followed by Draco Malfoy.

Draco was flanked on either side by Auror guards--men at least as big as Crabbe and Goyle.

'Malfoy looks horrible,' Ginny whispered.

She's right; he does look like death warmed over, Ron thought.

Draco had never been particularly big, but at that moment he looked tiny. He'd lost a significant amount of weight, and his face was drawn, gaunt and deathly pale. His normally perfectly coiffed, bright blond hair was dull and limp over his forehead. His grey eyes were red-rimmed, and there were dark circles beneath. The robes he wore, though quite finely tailored, hung loosely on his frame, and he walked with a decided sag in his shoulders.

He didn't look at Ron or Harry or the girls as he passed by, but Ron saw Draco's jaw clench slightly.

Draco took a seat at the witness stand.

'Good morning, Mr. Malfoy,' said D'Amico. 'Thank you for appearing for us again. I want to remind you that you are still under oath.'

Draco said nothing; he only nodded. He looked incomparably tired, and Ron bit back the pity rising in his own mind. He hated feeling sorry for Draco Malfoy.

'Now, there are a few issues I would like to clarify for the court, if I may,' D'Amico went on, pacing gracefully about the front of the room. He paused and turned to the judge.

'Permission to approach the witness, Your Honour?' he asked.

'Permission granted,' said Judge Bashir, nodding.

D'Amico moved closer to Draco, and Draco seemed to shrink a bit.

'I apologize for having to make you go over this again, Mr. Malfoy,' D'Amico said sympathetically, 'but I would like you to tell us, once again, about the night you learned that your mother had been murdered.'

Ron's eyes darted back to Lucius Malfoy's table; his lawyer was leaning over and whispering something in her client's ear. Ron felt a shudder as he watched her. Something about her just wasn't...right.

'Take your time, Mr. Malfoy,' D'Amico was saying, and Ron looked up again at Draco, who was rigid in his seat. He cleared his throat, took a deep breath, and spoke.

'It was...in June...10^th June of this year,' Draco croaked, his voice hoarse and tired. 'We were at the house with...with You-Know-Who--'

'"We" being you and the Death Eaters?' D'Amico asked.

'Objection,' piped in Lucius Malfoy's lawyer. 'Leading question.' Her voice was icy but smooth. Ron shuddered again.

'Your Honour,' said D'Amico, thoroughly unruffled, 'this information is all in the record. I am simply trying to keep things as clear and simple as I can.'

'Objection overruled,' said Judge Bashir. Malfoy's lawyer gave a casual shrug and sat back in her chair. 'Please continue, Mr. Malfoy,' Bashir added, nodding to Draco.

'Right,' said Draco, his voice faltering just slightly. 'Uh...we were at the house...me and the other Death Eaters...at the Riddle House...and...and we'd caught Potter...Harry Potter and his friends...and they'd been brought to see the Dark Lord...You-Know-Who...they were trying to rescue Luna Lovegood...'

'Miss Lovegood is a classmate, correct?' D'Amico interjected.

'Yes,' said Draco, his voice a bit more confident now. 'They wanted to get her out, but they got caught and...and the Dark Lord confronted them and...and told them he was going to kill them all.'

'And your father was there when this happened?' D'Amico asked.

'Yes--' Draco began.

'Objection,' said Lucius Malfoy's lawyer again, more loudly. 'Counsel is leading the witness.'

'Your Honour,' said D'Amico, holding out his hands, 'if Miss Rosier continues to object at the current rate we'll be here until Christmas. All of this information is clearly stated in the record--'

'Rosier?' Harry muttered. 'Her name's Rosier?'

'I'd have no reason to object if Counsel would stop asking the witness leading questions,' Miss Rosier interrupted. 'The last time I checked, the only time leading questions were allowed was during cross-examination.'

Ron gaped at Malfoy's lawyer, who was standing now, and felt a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. It couldn't be...

'What about her name?' Ginny hissed at Harry.

'Enough,' Judge Bashir said, with a bang of his gavel. 'Miss Rosier, thank you for that tutorial on the particulars of criminal proceedings, but I assure you, I'm quite familiar with them. Your objection is overruled. That said, Mr. D'Amico, Miss Rosier does have a point. You will refrain from asking leading questions of your witnesses from here on, and I must ask you to rephrase this question.'

'Of course, Your Honour,' said D'Amico smoothly.

'Thank you, Your Honour,' said Miss Rosier, and she gracefully sat down.

Ron vaguely heard Harry whispering to Ginny.

'There was a Death Eater named Rosier,' Harry said. 'He was killed by Aurors almost 20 years ago...Ron? What's wrong?'

Ron snapped out of his reverie and looked at Harry.

'Malfoy's lawyer,' he whispered. 'I think...she's the woman who was in my dream. About Voldemort...'

'Are you sure?' Hermione whispered, her eyes wide and fearful. 'I thought you said you didn't see her face--'

Ron nodded. 'It's the voice,' he muttered back. 'I'm telling you, it's her--'

'Order!' called Judge Bashir, banging his gavel sharply. 'I must insist on silence from the audience during these proceedings.'

Ron was just about to say something else, but Hermione shook her head. Ron looked up at Draco, who'd gone white and was shaking in his seat.

'Mr. Malfoy?' D'Amico asked. 'Are you quite all right to continue?'

'F-Father...' Draco whispered, and he pointed at Lucius Malfoy's table.

'Look at Draco Malfoy!' came a voice from somewhere closer to the front of the room. Like a wave everyone looked up to see Draco, cowering in his seat. Tears were running down his face and he was pointing helplessly at the defence table.

Ron's eyes moved at once to the defence (brit pick) table to see Miss Rosier with her hand on Lucius Malfoy's shoulder. Except that Lucius Malfoy was...changing.

Slowly the sleek blond hair faded, replaced by stringy brown hair in bad need of a cut; the fine silk robes vanished to become tatty, torn, dirty brown ones.

Lucius Malfoy was gone.

Oh, no...

Someone screamed, and the Auror/Bailiff croaked, 'That's not Lucius Malfoy!'

Ron felt his stomach swoop in horror as he began to understand what his dream meant.

It is done...

Lucius Malfoy had been sprung. Somehow. And standing in his place was...a stand-in.

How?

His lawyer. Miss Rosier...

In the pandemonium that ensued, Ron only had time to consider that Malfoy couldn't have possibly Apparated his way out of the courtroom; there were anti-Apparition wards up and even if Malfoy had managed it, someone would have heard him doing it.

'Miss Rosier!' Judge Bashir screamed above the sudden din. 'What is the meaning of this?'

'I don't know, Judge, I swear!' she cried, backing away.

'She's lying!' Ron yelled, without thinking, but nobody heard him, because at that very moment the man sitting in Malfoy's place suddenly seemed to realize he was in a courtroom, and he went into a panic. With a loud roar he leapt over the table.

'Get him!' the Judge hollered, and at once the Auror/Bailiff and two more Aurors launched themselves at the man, knocking him down.

'What the hell's going on?' Ginny and Harry said together.

'Everyone stay close!' Remus Lupin snapped. 'Stay calm.'

By now everyone was standing up, talking and gesticulating as they watched the three Aurors struggle to subdue the unknown man. Meanwhile, other Aurors began to patrol the room; some of them waved their wands in what looked like aimless patterns, but Ron guessed they must be rechecking the wards.

'ORDER!' Judge Bashir screamed, and he smacked his gavel so hard that it broke. He rolled his eyes, pulled out his wand, and fixed the gavel.

His command seemed to have worked to silence the crowd; Ron saw that the unknown man had been subdued.

'Everyone sit down,' Judge Bashir hissed angrily; his brown face was now purple with fury.

'Obviously we have a very serious problem,' he went on.

Gee, you think so? Ron thought savagely. His eyes darted wildly round the room. Draco was still in the witness chair, trembling and crying. Ron had never seen the other boy look so pathetic. Pity reared its ugly head again.

'Bailiff, take this man into custody immediately,' said the judge. 'Mr. D'Amico, report to Law Enforcement. Find out if Lucius Malfoy is still in custody and if not, put out an All Points Bulletin.'

'Yes, sir,' D'Amico said, his voice shaking. But his face was a mask of fury as he closed his attaché case and stormed out of the courtroom.

'Miss Rosier,' said Judge Bashir,glaring down at Malfoy's lawyer, who was standing rigidly next to the table. 'What is the meaning of this?'

'I swear, Judge,' she said, her voice shaking only slightly, 'I know nothing of this.'

'Really?' said Judge Bashir doubtfully.

'I'd be willing to undergo interrogation with Veritaserum to prove it,' she said, a note of defiance in her voice.

'She's lying--' Ron yelled again.

'QUIET!' Judge Bashir bellowed. 'Another outburst from ANYONE in this courtroom and I'll have you arrested! Miss Rosier, you will be escorted to an interrogation room this instant. This court must stand in recess.'

And with another bang of his gavel, everyone stood up; the reporters all rushed, as a mob, out of the courtroom, bumping into one another as they went.

'Hang on, everyone,' Lupin ordered. 'Unless you want to be trampled.'

'Remus, we have to get them out of here--' Mrs. Weasley began fretfully.

'I know, Molly,' Lupin called.

'What just happened?' Harry asked, looking shell-shocked.

'It appears you won't have to testify against Lucius Malfoy, after all,' said Lupin dryly.

'Professor--' Harry began.

'I don't know exactly what's going on, Harry,' Lupin interrupted. 'But Malfoy's out, and that's a problem. We need to get you and Ron and the girls home.'

'What'll happen to Draco?' Ginny asked; they all looked up to see the same Aurors who'd brought Draco in trying to help him from his chair; he'd stopped crying and shaking but he seemed to be almost in a half-swoon.

'I don't know,' said Lupin. 'The Ministry will have to sort it out. Let's go.'

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

An hour later, Ron and the others were back in the Burrow. They'd come back via Portkey, but Mr. Weasley and Lupin had had to turn right back round and leave: Mr. Weasley for the Ministry, and Lupin to Order headquarters. The werewolf made a vague mention of meeting with Dumbledore.

Now Ron, Harry, Hermione, Ginny and Mrs. Weasley sat in silence, picking listlessly at the lunch Mrs. Weasley had prepared. Nobody seemed to be able to speak. Occasionally Ron felt Hermione's hand on his knee, but the warmth of her touch didn't soothe him at all.

In fact, he felt slightly sick. He'd known something was going to happen. But in a million years, never this. How on earth had this happened? And why, why didn't Ron see it coming? And her name. Rosier. Harry said that there'd been a Death Eater named Rosier nearly two decades ago who'd been killed by Aurors. Was she related?

Idiot, she's a Death Eater, too, remember? And if that's the case she's got to be a pureblood and that means she's almost certainly related to this Rosier prat who died all those years ago.

Ron chewed listlessly at his sandwich as he considered the implications of everything. Was he a Seer, or not?

Obviously he had some skill as a sort-of Seer, but what good were his dreams if they didn't tell him what he needed to know, before something bad happened?

Maybe I'm doing something wrong. Maybe I'm supposed to meditate or go into trances or whatever to help me clear my mind...

Ron had remembered how Parvati and Lavender would often be found in the common room sitting cross-legged in a corner, their eyes closed as they hummed in an attempt to meditate. Ron had always thought they looked ridiculous, but now he wondered if maybe he was supposed to be doing something like that. Dumbledore had told Ron he needed to develop his skills to realize his full potential, if he was indeed a Seer.

How am I supposed to develop my skills if I don't know...how to develop my skills? Dumbledore never told me anything about that, if I'm supposed to meditate or exercise or...

Bloody hell.

The whoosh of owl's wings brought Ron back to his senses; a tawny owl swooped into the kitchen bearing a small scroll. It landed in front of Mrs. Weasley, who opened the scroll and read it, her forehead creased in a frown.

'What's up, Mum?' Ginny asked.

Mrs. Weasley looked fretful. 'It's a note from Dumbledore. He wants all of us to move over to Order Headquarters.'

'Now?' said Ron.

'Now,' said Mrs. Weasley. 'He's worried that the Burrow won't be safe--'

'But we have all those new wards!' Ginny protested.

'The wards we have are the same ones they used on the courtroom,' Mrs. Weasley said. 'And since nobody's been able to figure out yet just how Lucius Malfoy got away, we can't assume that the wards are strong enough not to be penetrated.'

'How long do we have to stay there?' said Harry glumly.

'I'm not sure, dear,' said Mrs. Weasley sympathetically. 'I'm so sorry. I know this has been an awful day for you.'

'I've had worse,' said Harry, shrugging.

Nobody said a word for a long moment.

At last, Mrs. Weasley stood up. 'You lot go upstairs and pack your trunks. You'll have to leave them here but someone will pick them up later. I'll clean up here. We're going by Floo and we'll need to leave in a half hour.'

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Twenty-five minutes later, Ron stepped from the fireplace in the kitchen of Number 12 Grimmauld Place. He coughed and brushed soot from his clothes, and at that moment the only thing he could think of was standing under a hot shower and then collapsing into bed and sleeping for a week.

Hermione came out soon after, followed by Harry, Ginny and Mrs. Weasley. The kitchen was empty but the long table was out and surrounded by a dozen or more chairs; Ron remembered there had been an Order meeting. Was it only last night? It seemed like weeks ago.

Ron glanced at Harry, who had a sad look on his face; he hadn't been back here since before Sirius had died.

'You okay, mate?' Ron muttered.

'I guess,' said Harry unconvincingly.

Mrs. Weasley led them upstairs and reminded them to keep quiet; they passed by the wall covered by velvet curtains that hid Mrs. Black's portrait.

'Dumbledore said your old rooms should be ready,' Mrs. Weasley whispered.

'Great,' Harry muttered, keeping his eyes fixed ahead of him. They walked up the flight of stairs and headed down the long corridor to the room Ron and Harry had shared two summers before.

Ron made to open the door when he heard voices.

'What the--' He opened the door.

'Ron, wait!' Mrs. Weasley hissed, yanking out her wand.

But as the others tried to pile into the room behind Ron, they all collided with him. Ron had stopped dead in his tracks and stood rooted to the spot, staring into the bedroom.

'Ron!' said Mr. Weasley, with a falsely boisterous note in his voice. 'Harry, Hermione, Ginny. And...Molly!'

'Hello,' said Professor Lupin.

Nobody else said a word. They were too busy staring at the person standing just behind Lupin.

'What,' Ron finally managed, 'is he doing here?'

'It's the only safe place for him at the moment, Ron,' said Mr. Weasley quickly.

'You have got to be kidding me,' said Harry angrily.

Standing just behind Lupin was Draco Malfoy.