The Final Reckoning

Chapter Thirty Four: The First Strike

Christmas Eve at Number Twelve Grimmauld Place was about as pleasant as Harry could have expected, considering Ron was with the Grangers and Sirius was dead.

The Weasleys, while making no secret of their disappointment at having to spend the holiday here, nonetheless had gone out of their way to make the house as cheerful as humanly possible.

Harry noticed the difference from the moment he landed in the kitchen fireplace, having Flooed from the Ministry: the kitchen itself was spotless, freshly painted, and there were new furnishings in it. It was so immaculate Harry didn't want to even step out of the hearth, but he was cleaned with a wave of Mrs. Weasley's wand, and then she pulled him into a bone crushing hug. Ginny and Mr. Weasley also received Cleaning Charms and the same trademark Mrs. Weasley embrace.

If the kitchen was immaculate, the rest of the house was pristine, so much so that Harry barely recognized it as he walked through it, levitating his trunk behind him as they made their way to the upper floors and the bedrooms. Not only was there no trace of dust, but it was immediately apparent that one, or many, had taken part in a massive redecorating effort.

Gone were the dilapidated antiques, mouldy furnishings, and yellowing brocade draperies. In their place stood new, simple looking furniture that spoke of sturdiness, functionality and comfort, if not elegance. Peeling wallpaper had been torn off and replaced with soft, pale paint. The entire effect seemed to lighten up the rooms and give them a warmer, almost sunny appearance. Even the red velvet drapes covering the Black family portraits had been replaced, with a cheerful, very pale yellow silk.

'Unfortunately we never were able to take those portraits down,' said Mrs. Weasley, 'but Fred and George invented Shut-Up Shellac. We painted it over the portraits three weeks ago and they've not been able to make a sound yet. So much more effective than a Silencing Charm.'

Harry heard the note of pride in Mrs. Weasley's voice; clearly her disappointment at Fred and George choosing a joke shop career had faded.

The redecorating and near-sterilizing of the house, Mrs. Weasley explained, was to make the house more functional, not to mention safer. With the exception of the portraits, every last cupboard, dresser and shelf--and all their remaining contents--had been removed and destroyed. Even the beds were new, as Harry noted when he entered the room he normally shared with Ron.

'Besides, Remus said it's what Sirius would have wanted,' said Mrs. Weasley, as she flipped on the light in the bedroom.

Ginny gave a little start, and Mrs. Weasley realized what she said and glanced worriedly at Harry.

'Oh, Harry, dear, I didn't mean--'

'It's okay,' said Harry at once. 'You're right. It is what Sirius would have wanted. The place looks loads better now all that old junk is gone.'

'Mum, who paid for all the new stuff?' Ginny asked.

'Oh, everyone chipped in,' said Mrs. Weasley brightly, as Harry moved into the bedroom and set Hedwig's cage down on a chest of drawers.

'Arthur got a nice Christmas bonus this year, finally,' Mrs. Weasley was saying, 'And Fred and George can't seem to stop making all sorts of money from their business, if you can believe that. Percy saved up some money, and Bill, too, although I told him he shouldn't, not when he and Fleur have a wedding to plan and pay for. But he told me he and Fleur had everything covered, so I suppose it's all right. Fleur must have something extra stashed away.

'Winky has been a godsend,' Mrs. Weasley went on, levitating Harry's trunk to the foot of the bed. 'She's helping me constantly with all the cleaning, and she's helping everyone else. Poor dear really does live to wait on people. And Remus, too, bless him, he's always doing things here and there around the house, although I do think he takes on too much for himself, what with his condition. Is the room okay, Harry?'

Harry blinked and looked at Mrs. Weasley. 'It's fine, thanks,' he said, pushing back the pang he felt at knowing that Ron wasn't here.

'Well, then,' said Mrs. Weasley, 'I'll just get Ginny settled. Dinner starts in an hour, so you have plenty of time to relax and freshen up.'

Before Harry could even say a word to Ginny, Mrs. Weasley ushered her daughter from the room; he managed to catch Ginny's eye and she winked at him and smiled.

Harry closed the door to the bedroom and looked around. The room was, indeed, spotless; the new furniture was sturdy and comfortable looking, if not particularly stylish; the walls were painted a bright, clean pale yellow; the dingy Oriental rugs had been pulled up and replaced with simpler throw rugs, over a highly polished wood floor. A fire crackled in the small fireplace, and Mrs. Weasley had draped the mantle with garlands of holly and pine, giving the room the scent of Christmas.

And for all that, Harry's heart was heavy. It didn't matter that the house looked unrecognizable. Sirius was in every part of it. As Harry gazed into the mirror over the chest of drawers, it wasn't his bespectacled green eyes that he saw, but Sirius's eyes, grey and haunted, and yet turned up at the corners in a rare, genuine smile.

Harry blinked and looked into the mirror again, and he saw his own green eyes beneath the wire-rim glasses, and he sighed and decided he might as well take a shower before dinner.

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

When Harry went down to dinner he wasn't surprised to find the basement kitchen both crowded and heavily decorated with Christmas baubles and garlands of holly. Little spots of light were dancing about the room, and Harry wondered if they were real fairies floating about. There was a small Christmas tree in the corner and from somewhere Harry heard the strains of Christmas music, coming no doubt from the wireless, floating about the room.

But it was the crowd in the kitchen that made Harry's jaw drop. He had never seen so many people in one room before, and suddenly realized that someone had magically enlarged the kitchen to fit them all.

Remus Lupin was there, along with Mad-Eye Moody and Mundungus Fletcher. Charlie was there, leaning on a crutch to support a heavily bandaged leg; his face was marked with the fading traces of bruises, and he was very pale, but considering how badly he'd been hurt, Harry was amazed to see him looking that robust, let alone walking. Percy was there, leaning on his cane and talking with Ginny, who looked fresh and pretty from a shower and wore a simple light blue blouse and jeans. Mrs. Weasley was stirring a huge cauldron; Mr. Weasley was discussing something with Moody. Even more surprising was the presence of Penelope Clearwater, Angelina Johnson, Alicia Spinnet and Lee Jordan.

'Hello, Harry,' said Lupin, striding over to Harry and shaking his hand. 'Happy Christmas.'

'Happy Christmas, Remus,' said Harry, still not totally comfortable using the other man's first name. 'Ron and Hermione, are they okay?'

'They're fine,' said Lupin. 'Ron will probably be sending an owl shortly, but Tonks already told me she and Kenneth saw them safely to the Grangers' house. Tonks will be here tomorrow morning; she's on duty until then.'

'Right,' said Harry, and he glanced about the kitchen. 'Er, what are all these people doing here?'

'New members of the Order,' said Lupin. 'The twins and Percy recruited them.'

'Harry!' said Charlie, beckoning him over.

Harry glanced at Lupin, who nodded. 'Go say hello, he's been asking after you.'

Harry nodded back at Lupin. 'See you later,' he said, and headed over to where Charlie was leaning on his crutch.

'Hey, Potter,' said Lee boisterously, slapping Harry on the back.

'Hi, Lee,' said Harry, and he took turns shaking hands and hugging people he hadn't seen and hadn't realized how much he missed.

'Hi, Charlie,' said Harry, shaking his hand at last. 'You look good.'

'For someone who nearly got his arse handed to him, you mean,' said Charlie, grinning.

'Don't flatter him, Harry, he looks like shite,' said George, holding several bottles of butterbeer very precariously. Alicia Spinnet was right behind him with her own bottle. Charlie took one of the bottles from George, followed by Fred, and then George handed a bottle to Harry.

'Language, boys,' called Mrs. Weasley from over her shoulder, as she set down a massive roast turkey on the stove.

The Weasley brothers, Angelina, Alicia, Lee and Harry exchanged glances and grinned.

'How are you, Harry?' asked Angelina.

Harry shrugged. 'Well enough,' he said. 'Trying to fill your captain's shoes.'

Angelina waved a hand at him. 'I wasn't so great.'

'You won the Cup,' said Harry.

'That was Ginny and Ron,' said Angelina.

'Hey!' said Alicia. 'We had something to do with it, too. Hell, even Kirke and Sloper weren't terrible that day.'

'Of course,' said Angelina. 'But you have to admit, Ron came through. It was pretty amazing. Hey, where is Ron anyway?'

'With Hermione,' said Fred, grinning. 'And her parents.'

'Ron's spending Christmas with Muggles?' said Alicia.

'And we don't get to see it,' said George, looking disappointed. 'I guess we'll have to seek entertainment elsewhere.'

'What do you think of the fairies, Harry?' said Fred. 'Our latest product.'

'You sell fairies?' said Harry. 'Does Hermione know, because if she does look out.'

'They're not real fairies,' said Lee.

'They're Faux Fairies,' said George proudly. 'All the sparkle of real fairies, with none of the attitude.'

'Faux?' said Harry.

'It's French,' said Fred. 'Bill came up with the name. You know, because Fleur's been giving Bill French lessons.'

'Fred,' said Angelina, groaning.

It was then that Harry noticed Bill wasn't there.

'Where's Bill?' he asked.

'In France,' said Charlie. 'With Fleur and her family. He's coming with Fleur tomorrow. Said they had to split up time between the two families and all, now they're engaged.'

'They're coming by Portkey tomorrow morning,' said George. 'All this security lately is a bitch, I'll say that much. It's been hell getting shipments in and out of the shop.'

'Don't kill the mood or anything, George,' said Fred. 'Not like it's Christmas or anything.'

'Right, sorry,' said George. 'Let's have a toast.'

'Cheers,' said Charlie, lifting his bottle.

'What are we toasting?' said Ginny, who appeared next to Harry with a butterbeer of her own. Percy, butterbeer in his free hand, hobbled up behind her with Penelope and came to stand next to Charlie.

'How about to Charlie and me, the gimpy twins?' Percy suggested, grinning, and he gave a little wave of his cane.

At this, Fred and George guffawed, Ginny giggled, Percy chuckled, and Harry--not sure how to react at first--joined in.

Mrs. Weasley, however, gave an angry huff, but said nothing. Percy leaned in.

'She hates me joking about my leg,' he said. 'But, really, nothing is sacred in this family.'

'Well said, Perce,' said Charlie, clinking his bottle with his younger brother's. 'All right, if we can't make fun of Percy's leg, let's toast to my arse being here and in one piece.'

'Hear, hear!' Fred shouted, and there was a cacophony of clinking bottles, followed by the sounds of people taking swigs of butterbeer.

'I still can't figure it out, though,' said Charlie, after he'd swallowed a mouthful of his drink. 'I really thought that was it for me. Nobody but a few people knew where I was and they had instructions not to follow, but...next thing I knew our people were there saving my bacon. Only nobody will tell me how they figured out how to find me.' He paused and looked reflective. 'Somebody was watching my back that day.'

Harry and Ginny exchanged looks, but said nothing as they sipped their butterbeer. Harry wasn't even sure if Ron's parents had been told about their youngest son's extraordinary gift or not, but something told him Mr. and Mrs. Weasley didn't know, at least not yet. Perhaps it was Dumbledore who had convinced Ron, at some point, to keep things quiet, if only for the Weasleys' protection. And now that Voldemort knew there was a Seer working against him, it seemed that secrecy was even more crucial.

'All right, you lot!' Mrs. Weasley bellowed above the din. 'Dinner's ready!'

All conversation seemed to stop as everyone took their seats at the magically enlarged table, and very quickly, Harry forgot, at least for a while, that there was a war going on. For a short time, he even forgot Ron's absence, until there was a loud tapping at the window, announcing Pig's arrival with a note.

Mrs. Weasley read the note aloud--it was very short, and said only that Ron and Hermione were fine, and that he'd owl again the next morning. Mr. Weasley, in particular, looked disappointed that Ron hadn't seemed to bother going into any detail about what it was like to stay in a Muggle house, but very quickly, the note was forgotten, and the meal commenced, and as Harry looked around the room, and as he felt Ginny's hand pat him lightly on the knee, and felt her smile, he decided to forget about life for a while, and think only about Christmas, and her, and his family. No, his families. The family that had died, and the one that currently sat at the table.

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

The red-haired woman clung to the baby. Silent tears coursed down her cheeks.

'Give him to me now,' said the voice, and it was high and hissing and it belonged to Lord Voldemort.

'No!' the woman snarled. 'You're not taking him.'

'If I kill you, there's not much you can do about it, is there?' said Voldemort. 'Give him to me, you know I won't kill him.'

'No, you'll do worse!' the woman cried.

'Give me that child!'

'You are not taking him,' the woman repeated.

'Do you want to die like your husband?' Voldemort sneered.

She looked Voldemort right in the eyes, and said, 'Yes.'

In the next instant, before Voldemort could even lift his own wand, the woman's right hand flashed in the air, and she pointed the wand at her baby son. Voldemort's eyes widened. The woman let out a choked sob and kissed her baby's forehead.

'I'm so sorry...'

Voldemort howled.

'NO!'

There was a brilliant flash of white light, and the woman let out an agonized scream, like the sound of one dying from the inside out. She clutched the baby to her body and screamed again and again, dropping her wand on the floor.

Voldemort was screaming, too, in fury, and he raised his wand and pointed it at the woman, who stopped screeching suddenly, and looked at him, her eyes begging him to kill her.

'Avada Kedavra!'

There was a flash of green light...

Ron sat up in bed abruptly, and immediately regretted it. The winter sun was streaming through the slit in the curtains, and hit him directly in the eyes.

He groaned and flopped back onto the bed, disoriented for a moment. He blinked and looked about the unfamiliar room, and then remembered. He was at the Grangers. And it was Christmas morning.

Early in the morning, too, judging by the position of the sun. Ron groaned and sat up again, and immediately recalled his dream diary. He'd forgotten to write in it yesterday, not to mention forgetting to meditate.

He reached over the side of the bed and pulled the journal from his rucksack. His dreams had been weird and vivid; he'd seen the sword again, in Harry's hand. He'd seen Hermione wearing her school uniform, but instead of her school tie, she wore one of Dobby's knitted ones. He'd seen Harry and Ginny dancing, and she was dressed in white; that must have been a dream of the Halloween ball. He'd seen the red haired woman holding the baby...

Voldemort.

He'd seen Voldemort again, advancing on the red-haired woman. She was clutching the baby in her arms and weeping silently, and her face had been defiant and frightened all at once. And...

'Merlin,' Ron breathed. The scene came roaring back to him.

The woman had killed her baby. She'd killed her son rather than turn him over to Voldemort. The woman had looked like...

'Ginny,' Ron choked.

How could that be? Ginny didn't have a baby! It must be in the future. But...Voldemort would be dead before his sister had a baby, wouldn't he? Harry would have defeated him.

What if he doesn't?

Ron thought about what Firenze had told him, about the future not being set. He then remembered his vision of Hermione and the red-haired baby.

Two possible futures, then. One good, the other...unthinkable.

He thought about the dream again. Why would Ginny do something so horrible? And then Ron remembered the exchanged words. Voldemort wanted the baby. He wasn't going to kill him. Ginny said Voldemort would do worse than killing the baby. Something so horrible, that Ginny herself had ended her son's life.

This is what will happen if Harry doesn't beat him, Ron thought. The future will be...terrible.

He groaned and shook his head, looking down at the scrawled words on the page of his journal. He didn't want to think about that future, the one in which Ginny became a murderer.

He dragged himself out of bed, and he knew he should meditate, but after that dream, he didn't want to. Couldn't he just have one more day without seeing horrible things?

Another image of Ginny pointing the wand at the baby flashed through his mind, and he knew he wouldn't meditate this morning. He could always get to it later, in the afternoon. At least after Christmas presents were opened.

Ron realized going back to sleep was pointless; he'd never be able to sleep with that awful dream buzzing in his mind. He got up and pulled on his dressing gown and stepped into his slippers. He wondered if he might make himself some coffee. Mrs. Granger had showed him how to use the coffee machine last night. It hadn't looked all that complicated.

He started to open the door to the guest room when he heard voices down the corridor.

Three separate voices, which meant all three Grangers were awake.

Good lord, they get up early.

It was only as Ron pulled the door open that he noticed that Hermione's voice was angry, almost shrill.

'--any idea how much trouble you could get in, Dad?' she was yelling. 'That rifle you own is illegal! You're committing a felony!'

'Hermione, we needed it for protection,' said Dr. Granger beseechingly.

'Hermione, calm down,' Mrs. Granger said, in a placatory tone.

'I will not calm down!' Hermione yelled, and Ron groaned and headed down the hall to the living room, where she was standing in her pyjamas and dressing gown. Her hair was huge and tangled and she was red in the face and glaring accusingly at her parents.

'Dad, where did you get that gun?' she asked. 'Because there's no way you just bought it from a shop.'

'Of course I didn't buy it in a shop,' said Dr. Granger. 'Look, Hermione, if you must know, one of my patients runs a little, er, underground business...'

'One of your patients is a black-market gun dealer?!' Hermione screeched.

'Hermione, please,' said Mrs. Granger. 'You'll wake the neighbours. Oh, hello, Ron,' she added fondly, as Ron stepped forward tentatively. 'Hermione doesn't approve of her father owning a rifle.'

'Of course I don't approve!' said Hermione. 'Good lord, Dad! Buying a gun on the black market, are you insane? If the police ever found it here you'd go to prison, you'd lose your dental practice!'

'Hermione, ease up,' Ron muttered, putting a hand on her shoulder. She whirled on Ron.

'I will not ease up!' she yelled, and then she turned back to her parents. 'Look, Mum, Dad, I can appreciate you wanting to protect yourselves but that's what Tonks and the other Aurors are here for! You shouldn't be breaking the law!'

'Hermione!' Ron yelled, trying to get her to calm down. Normally he'd just kiss her to shut her up, but that wasn't the sort of thing he could do in front of her parents. And the way her parents were looking at him--with gaping eyes--told him that his resolution not to touch Hermione at all was a good one. Then he remembered that his hand was on her shoulder, and he quickly removed it.

'What?' she cried.

'Can I talk to you for a minute?' he asked, through gritted teeth. 'In the kitchen?'

He looked at the Grangers, who were still taken aback, but both of them nodded.

'Why?' Hermione started to ask, but Ron, forgetting his vow of only two second ago not to touch her in front of her parents, grabbed her hand and tugged her into the kitchen.

'Ron!' she protested, but she went along with him, through the swinging door.

'What?' she hissed, when they were alone.

'You have to calm down,' Ron insisted.

'Ron, my father just told me he bought an illegal weapon on the black market,' Hermione snapped, struggling to keep her voice down. 'He's committing a felony!'

'You're a fine one to talk about not breaking the law,' Ron retorted. 'How many laws did you break when you put those Memory Charms on Daphne and Zabini, eh? Or when you slipped them Veritaserum or brewed that...that potion for me? Christ, you're about to start working with a teacher who you hated because she busted up the Ministry rules, but you're doing it because you think it'll help Harry. You break rules all the time, Hermione!'

She opened her mouth to protest, but then she stopped and her shoulders sagged slightly.

'That's different,' she mumbled.

'It's not different,' said Ron. 'They're Muggles, Hermione, they don't have wands to help them. We can be armed, why can't they?'

'My father doesn't know how to use a rifle!' Hermione whispered.

'I thought your mum said he'd been practicing,' said Ron.

'Where?' said Hermione. 'Rifles are illegal and he's not a member of a shooting club. He can't just go into the countryside and practice on empty cans!'

'I don't know!' said Ron. 'Look, Hermione, just...you have to ease up, okay? Your parents are scared and they're just trying to protect themselves. I mean, think how they feel--they have to be watched all the time, and they don't understand half of what's going on, even if Dumbledore did tell them the big stuff.'

Hermione let out a breath.

'Dammit,' she muttered. 'You're right. I'm sorry. It's Christmas and here I am freaking out.'

'Yeah, well, think of me,' said Ron. 'I nearly took my hand off in that evil disposal thing last night.' He glanced over at the sink and shuddered. 'I'm never going near that sink again.'

Hermione giggled. 'I'm sorry I was yelling,' she said. 'Did we wake you up?'

'No,' said Ron. 'I woke up on my own. Sleeping in a strange bed...you know.' He didn't really feel up to telling her about his dream. Not today. 'How did you find out about the whole gun thing, anyway?' he added.

'Oh, that,' said Hermione. 'I looked up the gun laws when I got up this morning. I found the information on the Internet.'

'The what?'

'The Internet,' said Hermione. 'It's on the computer. It's also called the World Wide Web. It's relatively new, but basically it's this, well, web of electronic communications, and these things called websites--'

'You know what, maybe you can show me later,' said Ron.

'Right,' said Hermione, smiling. 'Anyway, I suppose I should apologize to my parents, shouldn't I?'

'Probably,' said Ron, grinning.

They left the kitchen and went back into the living room. The Grangers were looking at Hermione warily, whose face had flushed just slightly.

'Mum, Dad,' she said, 'I'm sorry for yelling at you. Especially you, Dad. I was just...very worried.'

'That's okay, honey,' said Dr. Granger, looking slightly bewildered by his daughter's change in demeanour. 'You're right, of course,' he added, 'I probably shouldn't have taken such drastic measures but...your mother and I wanted to be proactive about this.'

'Promise me you'll be really careful with it?' said Hermione.

'Of course, dear,' said Mrs. Granger. 'Now...for heaven's sake, it's Christmas. Let's start the day off right, shall we? We'll have a big breakfast first and then we can open gifts.'

'Sounds good to me,' said Dr. Granger and Ron at the same time, and the women both laughed.

'Men,' said Mrs. Granger, shaking her head. 'Always thinking about food. Hermione, would you mind helping me with the vegetables for the omelettes? Warren, you make the coffee and the juice. Ron...'

She looked at Ron for a moment, and then came to a decision.

'Perhaps you should just set the table,' she said.

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

Christmas at Grimmauld Place started late in the morning. After the hectic activity of the meal the night before, everyone seemed to want a lie-in.

By the time everyone filtered downstairs to the great room, where the huge tree ('procured by Dad,' Ginny announced proudly) stood, the sun was climbing high into the sky.

The great room was crowded with people, and the mood was festive; Harry felt a pang at Sirius being gone, but he couldn't help but get swept up in everyone's good moods, and the gifts were, as usual, quite wonderful.

He got the usual Weasley jumper from Mrs. Weasley--this one had a Firebolt on it--as well as several mince pies. Fred and George bought him a Portable Swamp ('You never know when you might need a swamp close at hand,' said Fred); Percy bought him a book called History's Greatest Seekers; Charlie gave him a Hungarian Horntail tooth on a chain ('Consider it a good luck charm,' he said); Bill--who'd be arriving later that day with Fleur--also bought him a book, called The World's Most Dangerous Curses, Broken; Tonks and Remus had bought him a self-cleaning owl cage; and Ron and Hermione jointly gifted him with all his favourite sweets, as well as a new broomstick servicing kit. At last, Ginny presented her gift: his own Snitch.

The day went on with general good cheer; Harry and Ginny did little more than eat, play various games with the Weasleys, and admire their gifts. More than once Harry caught Ginny gazing happily at the silver charm bracelet he'd bought for her.

Ron and Hermione both owled, and Pigwidgeon nearly keeled over from the effort of delivering two letters.

Bill arrived that afternoon with Fleur in tow, and the effect was almost immediate, with all but Lupin, Harry and Mr. Weasley approaching Fleur and telling her outlandish tall tales about their occupations and daily heroics. She kept excusing herself to use the loo, which puzzled Harry, but then, perhaps she was nervous about spending Christmas with her future in-laws.

Harry tried not to admire Fleur, but it was difficult. She swept about the room gracefully, light as a butterfly, her long blonde hair shimmering in the fairy light, and she looked positively radiant. Harry found himself gazing at her during dinner on and off, and let his eyes wander over to her a final time just after pudding was eaten and the table cleared.

'Earth to Harry,' said a distant voice, as Harry watched Fleur whispering something to Bill, who was smiling.

'What?' said Harry, shaking his head, and he blinked and saw Ginny smirking at him. He blushed.

'Er,' he said, and he shrugged. There was no sense denying what he'd been doing.

'Sorry,' he said sheepishly.

'It's okay,' said Ginny, in a low voice. 'At least you didn't go up to her and tell her you were the Prime Minister.'

'Who said that?' said Harry.

'George,' she said, rolling her eyes at her older brother, who sat on the other side of her.

'Their girlfriends aren't here tonight,' Harry noted, and indeed, the crowd, while still large, had thinned out a bit. 'Penelope's not here, either.'

'They're with their families,' said Ginny. 'Anyway, I'm a little glad not to have everyone crowding in here. It's crowded enough. Although if you ask me, this family is going to be a bit more crowded soon.'

'What?' said Harry, confused. 'What do you--'

Before he could finish, Bill tapped a fork against his wine glass and stood up.

'Could I have everyone's attention?'

Harry looked up, but not before he noticed that Mrs. Weasley looked rather a bit perturbed about something.

'First, Merry Christmas to everyone,' said Bill, grinning at everyone in turn. 'It's good to see everyone safe and healthy. Fleur and I have an announcement.'

Fred snorted. 'We already know you two are engaged, you idiot.'

'Maybe he's fluent in French now,' said George, sniggering.

'Keep talking, little brother,' said Bill, smiling dangerously. 'Maybe you'll live to see your next birthday.'

'Ooh, I'm scared,' said George, but before he could say anything else, Ginny elbowed him sharply.

'Knock it off,' she hissed. Bill winked at her and continued.

'Right,' he said. 'Well, Fleur and I had been talking about the wedding plans and we realized that...it was becoming a lot more expensive than we liked.'

'I told you not to go spending money on furniture for this place!' Mrs. Weasley said irritably. 'Honestly, Bill, weddings are the sort of thing you have to plan for financially--'

'Mum,' said Bill, 'can I finish?'

'Of course,' she said. 'Only you know you can always do a smaller wedding if money is an issue.'

'Money isn't an issue,' said Bill. 'You see, Fleur and I...are already married. We eloped in Paris a week ago.'

The silence that filled the room was such that Harry could have heard a pin drop.

After an agonizing moment, Bill grinned sheepishly, took Fleur's hand in his, and said, 'Surprise.' Fleur smiled weakly, and Harry noticed that she had gone just slightly green in the face.

Five seconds later, the explosion happened.

'YOU ELOPED!?' Mrs. Weasley screeched.

'Congratulations, brother!' Fred called. 'Brilliant move!'

'Welcome to the family, Fleur,' George added. Fleur nodded weakly and clutched Bill's hand so tightly her knuckles were white.

'I CAN'T BELIEVE YOU ELOPED!' Mrs. Weasley hollered, and she burst into tears. 'How could you--all I wanted--my oldest boy--walking with you down the aisle--oh, Bill!' And she flung herself on Mr. Weasley, who patted her on the back and shook his head. He looked up at Bill.

'Maybe you shouldn't have said anything about that,' Mr. Weasley muttered.

'Oh, Mum,' said Bill, letting go of Fleur and hurrying to Mrs. Weasley's side. 'Don't do this. Come on, please? Fleur and I didn't have the money for a wedding and we were sick of waiting and we were in Paris and...Paris is the most romantic city in the world--'

This brought another wail from Mrs. Weasley.

Harry gazed at Ginny, who smirked.

Bill bit his lip and tried something else.

'We can still have a reception,' he said bracingly. 'A big party, and you can plan everything and show us off and...and whatever else you like.'

Mrs. Weasley gave another sob, and Bill looked at his father helplessly.

'Let me handle this, son,' said Mr. Weasley. 'You might want to see to Fleur. She doesn't look well.'

Bill stood up sharply; Harry looked over at Fleur, who was now indeed very green.

'Is she okay?' Harry asked. Bill was already at her side, talking to her soothingly, as the ruckus of voices carried on.

'No,' said Ginny. 'I'll deal with this.'

She got up and marched over to Fleur and Bill; she whispered something into her oldest brother's ear, and he nodded. Together they helped Fleur stand; she swayed on her feet a bit.

'Oi! Fleur, are you okay?' said Fred, suddenly noticing Fleur's distress.

'I'm so sorry,' she said, her voice sounding a bit strangled. 'Suddenly I do not feel so well...'

'I'll take her,' said Ginny, and she gently guided Fleur away from the dinner table.

'Fleur, love--' Bill began.

'Please, Beel...' said Fleur, and she swallowed hard. Harry gulped. She was about five seconds away from vomiting up her dinner.

'Come on,' said Ginny, leading Fleur past the crowd, whose chatter had died down. Suddenly everyone was watching Ginny and Fleur; Fleur's steps were tentative and she looked woozy. There was another silence as the two young women left the room, and once they were out of the door, Bill suddenly rounded on his family.

'Well, thanks,' he said acidly. 'I hope you're happy. Fleur's sick and you've just made things worse with all your yelling.'

'Come on, Bill, we didn't mean anything,' said Charlie, holding up a hand.

'She'll be all right, surely,' said Percy.

'I almost didn't come here, you know that?' Bill went on. 'Because I knew it would be tough on her, all the excitement and the stress. Bad enough we had to travel so much, with her condition.'

Everyone stared at Bill, and Harry suddenly put the pieces together.

'I'm sorry there won't be a fancy wedding ceremony,' Bill said hotly, 'but quite frankly it's a little infuriating that a bloody wedding is all you lot seem to care about when my wife, thank you, is upstairs throwing up because she's pregnant.'

Harry gaped at Bill, and then his eyes travelled around the table. To a one, the Weasleys were wide-eyed and open-mouthed. Ginny had slipped into the kitchen quietly and Harry saw her nod to Bill reassuringly. She and Bill alone seemed to be the only Weasleys who weren't in shock. Harry remembered what Ginny had said earlier, about the Weasley family getting bigger, and he suddenly understood.

After what seemed like an hour, Mrs. Weasley sniffed and spoke.

'F-Fleur's pregnant?' she whispered. 'You're having a baby?'

'Whoa,' said Fred and George together.

Bill's face softened, and his eyes became red-rimmed. 'Yeah,' he said, shrugging. 'That's why we eloped. I mean, that's not why we eloped. You know what I mean. We wanted to be married when we started a family only...the family came a little earlier than we thought. I know you probably think we were being irresponsible or something but that's not true, we...took precautions but they're not always 100% effective and anyway...we're really happy about it and...we just wanted you to know.'

'You're having a baby!' Mrs. Weasley shrieked, and she leapt out of Mr. Weasley's arms and rushed to her son, launching herself at him. 'Oh, Bill! That's...I don't believe it! I'm going to be a grandmother! That's the most wonderful Christmas gift I've ever had...you wonderful boy!'

Bill was bright red as his mother kissed him all over his face.

'Mum, get a grip,' he muttered.

Harry bit his lip to keep from laughing; in that moment, Bill reminded Harry quite strongly of Ron.

'You do know you have to cut your hair now,' said Mrs. Weasley tearfully. 'A father can't go around looking like a hooligan!'

'Enough with my hair, Mum,' said Bill. 'You're not mad about not having a wedding?'

'Oh, pish posh,' said Mrs. Weasley. 'A wedding isn't that important.'

At this, the whole room burst into laughter, and Mrs. Weasley realized what she'd said, and laughed as well.

And like lightning, the atmosphere in the room changed. The Weasley brothers all stood and began slapping Bill on the back; Harry heard Fred say something to Bill--something about his 'guys' being good swimmers--and Mrs. Weasley pulled herself off her oldest son and smacked Fred in the back of the head.

It was then that Fleur reappeared in the kitchen, looking pale and a bit drawn.

'Eez everysing all right?' she asked timidly.

'Hey, the mum to be!' George called, and he started towards her, but Mrs. Weasley grabbed George by the collar and yanked him back.

'Boys!' she said, her voice all business now, 'don't go crowding her. She needs some air, poor dear.'

She went to Fleur and smiled warmly. 'How are you feeling, Fleur?'

'Much better, sanks,' she said, a bit warily.

'Fleur, honey, I told them,' said Bill. 'I hope you don't mind.'

'No, I don't,' she said, smiling weakly at her husband. 'Eet had to be said sometime.'

Harry watched as Mrs. Weasley began to fuss over Fleur; Fred announced that the news of Bill's impending fatherhood meant it was time to retire to the parlour for Firewhiskey and cigars.

'No women!' Fred said sternly, giving Ginny a knowing look. Ginny rolled her eyes and shook her head.

'Coming, Harry?' said Charlie. 'This is a classic Weasley male bonding moment.'

Harry glanced over at Ginny, who nodded to him to go ahead, but he didn't really want to. He hadn't had any time to be alone with her all day, and with Mrs. Weasley occupied with Fleur, and the Weasley men all congregating upstairs, Harry made up his mind.

'No, thanks,' he said, gazing at Ginny, who was smiling almost shyly back at him now.

Charlie's eyes darted from Harry to his sister, and back.

'Yes, well,' he said, grinning, 'I think I agree with your priorities.'

Harry blushed.

'Just don't make us have to do our protective big brother act,' Charlie added, giving Harry's arm a gentle punch.

'Don't worry,' said Harry fervently. 'Ron's already given me the whole speech, and he's pretty scary by himself when he's hacked off. I don't fancy taking on the six of you.'

Charlie grinned good-naturedly, and hobbled up the stairs after his brothers and father; Mrs. Weasley was helping Fleur up the stairs, telling her about some herbal remedy she knew that could reduce Fleur's nausea; Tonks, for her part, announced that she had patrol duties again at the Grangers, and she said her good-night and Disapparated.

At last, Harry and Ginny were alone in the kitchen.

'Well, that was quite an evening,' she said, crossing the room to meet him halfway.

He took her hands in his.

'Yeah,' he said. 'Your family's nutters. You know that.'

'Of course,' said Ginny. 'I grew up with them. But you love them anyway.'

'Yeah,' said Harry. 'Especially their only daughter.'

The words left his lips before he really noticed them, but the expression on Ginny's face drove them home.

'Do you mean that?' she whispered.

'Yeah,' he said. 'I do.' He swallowed and took a breath and said the words he never thought he'd say to another girl. 'I love you.'

Strange, really, how he couldn't say it only a few days ago, but now it came out of him so easily. Was it the small glass of wine he'd sipped with dinner that had loosened his tongue, or the warmth of the holiday itself, or just being with her, and the people he loved best? Even with Ron somewhere else, Harry felt...whole.

Ginny's eyes filled with tears.

'You're not supposed to cry when I say that,' said Harry, and he grinned and kissed the tip of her nose.

'Oh, shut up,' she said, and she kissed him, long and slow, and he knew he was home, even if it was in this house that had so many bad memories. Home was Ginny and her mad red-headed family.

'I love you, too,' she whispered, against his lips. 'Happy Christmas.'

'Happy Christmas,' he whispered back, before his mouth found hers again.

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

If Ron had to choose a single word to describe Christmas with the Grangers, it would have been 'quiet.'

It wasn't that the Grangers weren't gregarious, or that they were boring to be around. It's just that there were so few of them. Ron couldn't remember the last time he had so much room to move at a dining table. He didn't have to shout over a din of voices to be heard. Getting someone to pass him the cous cous--whatever that was--didn't require him to yell to the other end of the table or fetch it himself.

Ron had to admit Mrs. Granger was a fair cook. She tended to cook more exotic stuff--like the rack of lamb he'd just wolfed down, and that cous cous stuff, and what she called 'root vegetables' (they were turnips, Ron didn't get why she didn't just call them turnips). But the food was plentiful, and pudding was pumpkin pie with lots of whipped cream. He even got to drink some wine with dinner, which he decided he liked very much.

The conversation was, on occasion, a bit strained, but the Grangers showed a lot of interest in him, and were about as curious about wizarding life as his father was about Muggle life. They asked Ron no small amount of questions, and Dr. Granger showed a particular interest in Quidditch. After dinner, they retired to the living room, where Ron found himself mesmerized by the television (or 'telly'--that was much easier to remember). Nobody could really explain to him how all those people got into that relatively big box, or how that little clicker thingy worked and made new places appear (Hermione called them 'channels') with new people and new stuff going on. Ron did get quite an education on Muggle sport, though. Dr. Granger proudly informed Ron that he was a cricket enthusiast; Ron's first reaction was to ask Hermione's father what he liked about crickets.

They watched a bit of a cricket match on the telly--it was taking place in Australia. All the players wore white uniforms: pants, collared, short-sleeved shirts, and sweater vests.

'You see that chap there, how he's running and hurling that ball?' Dr. Granger said. 'He's the bowler for the Indian team. And--oh!--looks like he's taken the Australian's wicket. That means the batsman is dismissed...the next batsman is coming up now...'

Ron got bored with cricket, and though he didn't say so, Dr. Granger must have sensed it, and changed the channel, and another type of sport showed up that immediately caught Ron's eye: a bunch of men were riding around on horses, carrying mallets and smashing a small ball around.

'Polo,' Dr. Granger explained. 'Lovely but brutal sport.' He paused and scrutinized the screen. 'Of course! This match was a classic, West Indies vs. New Zealand. Back when the West Indies were the champions. I love it when they show the old matches.'

Ron watched in fascination. Brutal indeed. In a matter of ten minutes, two players had been thrown from their mounts, and one stepped on--he had to be carried out on a stretcher. Several more riders collided with others, and one man took a mallet to the face and got a broken nose.

'This is wicked,' said Ron, a grin crossing his features. He had no idea Muggle games could be so fascinating, or violent. Ron noticed that one of the teams seemed to be comprised entirely of black men. 'What teams are these, again?'

'The match is in New Zealand,' said Dr. Granger. 'New Zealand versus the West Indies. I remember just what I was doing that day, I was putting in a crown for old Mrs. Skelton.'

Ron had no idea why Dr. Granger would be using a crown in his dental practice, or how or why he would have put it in someone. He debated for a moment asking, but decided he didn't want to know. Instead, he kept his attention on the polo match.

'Is there an English team?' Ron asked.

'Of course,' said Dr. Granger. 'There are clubs all over the country. We practically invented the sport.'

'Dad, that's totally not true,' said Hermione. 'Polo was invented by the Persians in the 6^th century B.C. England didn't discover the sport until the 19^th century A.D. and didn't actually start playing until the 1850's.'

Ron and Dr. Granger exchanged looks and grinned.

'Well,' said Dr. Granger, 'England did modernize the sport, at any rate.'

They watched a bit more of the polo; then Dr. Granger brought out a chess set--which looked like it hadn't been used in ages--and asked for a game. Ron was disappointed that the chess pieces didn't throttle each other when they moved, but he said nothing. Dr. Granger proved to be a dismal chess player--every move he made was perfectly obvious to Ron, whose attempts to coach him proved mostly worthless.

'Now I know where Hermione gets her chess skills,' Ron blurted, as he declared his fifth checkmate. Then he realized what he'd said, and blushed.

'That is...I mean...' he stammered.

You were doing so well, and you had to screw it up by insulting her father.

But Dr. Granger laughed. 'If Hermione is half as bad as I am, she's hopeless.'

'Thanks, Dad,' said Hermione sarcastically, as she turned a page of her book.

'You can't be good at everything, love,' said Ron, clearing off the chess pieces. She looked up from her book and smiled at him, and he winked at her. She fingered the locket at her neck. He'd not been able to afford to buy her anything for Christmas this year, owing to the expense of getting that necklace for her birthday, so instead, he put together a magical collage of photos of the two of them, and of Harry and Ginny, and gave them to her to put inside her locket. He'd written stupid little poems on the back--poems so stupid he made her swear she would never, ever let anyone see them because he'd die of embarrassment. But they were all poems about her and she loved them. She declared, with tears in her eyes, that it was by far her favourite gift. There was even a photo of Crookshanks and Pigwidgeon--the ginger cat was eyeing Pigwidgeon with haughty disdain as the little owl fluttered madly about the cat's head.

She'd given him a book on famous Aurors and a Chudley Cannons jersey signed by Joey Jenkins. He'd nearly thrown himself at her and kissed for that, but then he caught himself and instead gave her a very chaste hug. When she'd asked him how on earth she'd gotten her hands on the jersey, she bit her lip and said, 'Well, um, it's not as if there are a lot of people who want Cannons jerseys.'

'Right,' Ron had said, remembering that his favourite team hadn't won a championship in...well, a long time. But he was too happy to care; he pulled on the jersey and it clashed ridiculously with his hair.

'Right, well,' said Dr. Granger, 'it's late. I think it's time we turn in.'

The four of them stood up at the same time, said their good nights. Ron noticed that Hermione was hanging back a bit, and he swallowed. She clearly wanted to spend some time alone with him, seeing as they hadn't been able to do so since they'd arrived. He wanted it, too, but what if Hermione's father objected?

The issue was settled by Mrs. Granger, who tugged at her husband's arm, and the two of them started out of the living room, but not before Dr. Granger looked at the two of them with a sad expression on his face. Ron recognized the look at once; Dr. Granger had that same look on his face when they'd talked about Hermione the night before. Before anyone else could say anything, however, the Grangers had left the living room. Ron heard their retreating footsteps on the stairs.

Another few seconds passed, and Hermione smiled at Ron.

'Finally,' she said softly, and without another word, she crossed to him and put her arms around his neck and pressed her lips to his.

Ron backed away. 'Hermione, wait...' he whispered.

'Ron, what's the matter?'

'Well, your parents--'

'Are upstairs,' said Hermione.

'Yeah, but your dad--'

'Isn't going to bother us,' Hermione insisted, and she took Ron's hand and tugged him over to the sofa.

'Hermione, he has...a really big gun,' said Ron nervously.

'We're not going to do anything that'll get us in trouble,' said Hermione, sitting down on the sofa and pulling him down to sit next to her.

'But--'

'Ron, is this why you've barely touched me since we got here?' she asked. 'Because you're scared of my dad?'

'I'm not scared of him,' said Ron, a bit defensively. 'I just...don't want him to hate me.'

'He could never hate you,' said Hermione, and she kissed him lightly on the lips, and Ron felt his resolve weakening. Bloody hell, they hadn't kissed for a whole day. He never went a whole day without kissing her anymore.

'He could...if he saw me...kissing you,' Ron murmured, as he felt her lips trail over his face.

'We'll just have to be really quiet then,' said Hermione, kissing his lips again, 'so he doesn't come downstairs.'

'Okay,' Ron said, surrendering. He placed his hands on her face and kissed her deeply, exploring her mouth with his own, and it was like heaven. They kissed for several minutes, leaning back onto the sofa but not fully lying down on it, and when they came up for air, Hermione whispered, 'Ron, we can't--'

'I know,' he said, brushing a curl out of her eyes. He was very aroused by now but there would be no solving that issue tonight, unless he took care of things by himself, but he didn't fancy wanking in some stranger's bedroom. Somehow the idea of making a mess of the Grangers' sheets seemed very rude.

But he didn't want to stop kissing her either, so he went on kissing her, and she kissed him, and he was reminded of what things were like when they had first started going out, and were only at the kissing stage, and Hermione hadn't let him yet touch her in all the ways he wanted to. It was frustrating, and yet...nice, too.

'I love you,' he whispered, when they came up for air a second time. 'I love you so much.'

Hermione's eyes glistened with tears. 'I love you, too,' she whispered, brushing his fringe back from his forehead. They kissed again, on and on; Ron's hands couldn't stay away from touching her completely, they glided over her breasts and caressed her there, gently, over her jumper, before moving back to her hair again.

'Ron...' Hermione whispered, and he knew what she meant, and he pulled his lips away from her neck.

'I know, we should stop,' he said, running a hand through his hair. He sat up and she sat up with him.

'This is frustrating,' she whispered.

'You're telling me,' said Ron, grinning. 'Maybe you should--'

'Yes,' said Hermione. 'I'll just--'

CRACK!

The sound was so sudden, so completely unexpected. Ron's reaction was born of instinct; he pulled Hermione to the floor and covered her protectively with his body, while yanking his wand from his jeans pocket.

'What the hell?' he whispered.

'Someone just Apparated!' Hermione whispered frantically. 'Oh god.'

'What about the wards?' Ron hissed.

'They must have broken through,' said Hermione, squirming beneath Ron and yanking out her own wand.

'The noise...I think it came from upstairs--'

A piercing scream broke the quiet of the house.

'Mum!' Hermione cried, and she leapt up off the ground and ran for the staircase.

'Hermione, no!' Ron yelled, jumping after her; he turned the corner in time to see a Death Eater swing his wand at Hermione.

'Impedimenta!' the Death Eater shouted, and the force of the spell sent Hermione flying backwards. She landed on her back, hard.

Ron gave a growl and turned his wand on the Death Eater.

'Confractum femoris!' he shouted, and the spell struck the Death Eater in the right leg. There was a sickening crack, followed by a howl of pain, as the Death Eater went down. 'Stupefy!' Ron yelled, adding a Stunner for good measure; the Death Eater slumped down the stairs, unconscious.

'Hermione,' Ron cried, racing to her side and helping her up. She coughed.

'I'm fine,' she said, sounding as though the breath had been knocked from her.

'Are you mad?' said Ron, wanting to shake her. 'Running round a corner like that? You could have been killed! Don't ever do something that stupid again!'

'Ron, my parents!' Hermione cried, and suddenly she heard Mrs. Granger scream.

'NO!'

'Crucio!'

Dr. Granger howled in pain.

Hermione started to shriek and Ron clapped a hand over her mouth.

'Quiet!' he hissed. 'Stay behind--'

'Ron, look out!'

With almost inhuman strength Hermione knocked Ron to the ground with the force of her body as another curse raced past them, missing them by inches. Before Ron could scramble to his feet, Hermione shot up onto hers and shouted 'Lacero aorta!'

The Death Eater gave a kind of strangled gasp; Ron heard a faint sound of tearing, and he jumped up in time to see the Death Eater clutching at his chest and tumbling down.

'Come on!' Hermione begged, hurrying toward the stairs.

Ron grabbed her and pulled her behind him, and they started up, where Dr. Granger was moaning in pain.

'Crucio!' came the voice of the other Death Eater--a woman's voice. Ron shuddered. He heard Mrs. Granger sobbing, begging, as Dr. Granger's raw screams shook the house.

'Oh, god,' Hermione whispered.

'Shit,' said Ron. 'We don't know how many are in there.'

'We have to do something!' said Hermione desperately. 'Where the hell are the Aurors?'

'We can't worry about them now,' said Ron. 'Just...stay behind me and be quiet.'

They crept toward the Grangers' room; the Cruciatus Curse had again been lifted.

'Please...' Mrs. Granger begged. 'What do you want from us?'

'Silence!' said a male voice, with a heavy foreign accent.

'We're just having a little fun,' said the woman.

'Don't h-hurt...my daughter,' Dr. Granger rasped. 'P-please...'

'Too late for that,' said the woman, and Ron suddenly placed her voice. It was Helene Rosier. The woman who tried to kill Charlie. He felt rage bubbling in him like hot acid.

'No,' Mrs. Granger sobbed.

'We're going in,' Ron whispered, as they stood just outside the door. 'Ready?'

Hermione looked up at him; her face was streaked with tears and she looked scared, but furious, too. She nodded.

'One, two, THREE!'

Ron kicked the door open so hard it went flying off its hinges and crashed into the Death Eater guarding it. He went sprawling.

'Expelliarmus!' Ron shouted, and his curse struck Helene Rosier square in the chest just as she turned towards him. She went flying backwards and the force of the spell ripped her wand from her grasp.

The third Death Eater wasted no time; he grabbed Dr. Granger and yanked him upwards, holding onto him as though he were a shield.

'Don't move!' the Death Eater shouted, and Ron recognized him as Rodolphus Lestrange.

'Dad!'

Dr. Granger struggled weakly in Lestrange's grip, but the Death Eater pressed the tip of his wand into Dr. Granger's temple, and he went still.

'Anyone moves, and I kill him,' said Lestrange. Next to him, Helene Rosier was moaning and slowly getting to her feet.

'Drop your wands,' Lestrange ordered.

Ron and Hermione exchanged desperate looks, but then Hermione looked defiantly at the two Death Eaters and raised her wand so fast, it was a blur.

'Fatisco galerum!' she shouted, and the spell struck Lestrange in the forehead. There was a crack, and he howled in pain and dropped Dr. Granger, who slumped to the floor.

Lestrange was screaming and holding his head, which was bleeding. Helene Rosier snarled and reached out her hand, and her wand flew into it. Ron started to raise his own wand, but she grabbed Lestrange and Disapparated.

'Dad!' Hermione cried, and she hurried over to his side.

Mrs. Granger gave a choked sob and was at the other side of her husband.

'Warren,' she whispered.

Ron helped Dr. Granger sit up; he was conscious, but his muscles were still twitching just slightly from the aftershocks of the curse.

'He'll be okay,' Ron said, letting Dr. Granger lean against him. 'I've gotten that curse before, too. It hurts like hell but...he'll be okay in a few minutes.'

'Dear god...' Dr. Granger whispered. 'Oh, my dear god...'

'Who were they?' Mrs. Granger whispered. 'I mean...I know they must be...working for...for...'

'Voldemort,' said Ron darkly.

'Mum, fetch that water glass,' Hermione said, nodding to her mother's nightstand. Mrs. Granger bobbed her head and got up, looking half shell-shocked.

'They were Death Eaters,' Ron explained, as mopped Dr. Granger's brow with the hem of his shirt.

'But I thought our house was protected,' said Mrs. Granger, handing Hermione the glass of water.

'So did we,' said Hermione, sounding angry, but then she held the water glass to her father's lips.

'Dad, drink this,' she whispered, and he did.

'You saved us,' he whispered, after he had taken a sip. 'My god...you brave girl...and...and Ron...thank you...'

His eyes turned to Ron, and Ron felt a sudden plummeting in his stomach.

You didn't meditate at all today. This happened, and you didn't meditate today. He's thanking you for saving his life, but if you'd just meditated today none of this might have happened...

Ron swallowed the guilt in his throat and said, 'Forget it.' He felt Hermione's eyes on him, and he knew that she knew what he was thinking.

'They broke the wards,' she said, keeping her voice even, and her eyes on Ron; their expression was soft, and he knew she didn't blame him, and that only made him feel worse.

You stupid, selfish, lazy--

'What about the Aurors?' Dr. Granger, asked, sitting up with a wince.

'Dunno,' Ron mumbled, wishing Hermione would stop looking at him like that.

It's my fault. How can she not blame me? Her parents were nearly killed and it's my fault...

'They could have been hurt,' said Hermione, and she bit her lip. 'Or--'

'Or killed,' said Ron, the lump in his throat threatening to strangle him.

'We have to get a message to headquarters,' said Hermione, beseeching Ron with her eyes, but he looked away. She went on. 'We can't stay here.'

She looked sadly at her father.

'I'm sorry,' she said.

'It's not your fault,' said Dr. Granger, and he looked at Ron and smiled again. 'It's nobody's fault.'

Ron felt like hitting something. Or crying.

'Ron?' said Hermione. 'Come on, let's--'

But suddenly Dr. Granger's face went white and his hand shot up; he was pointing at something. Ron and Hermione whirled around. The third Death Eater was standing up and his wand was aimed directly at Dr. Granger's chest.

'No!' Ron cried, and he threw himself in front of Dr. Granger.

'Avada--'

BANG!

Hermione gave a shriek as the explosion ripped through the room. Ron looked up to see the Death Eater being thrown back against the wall. A gaping hole was in his chest, and blood was everywhere, flowing out of him. His face was locked in an expression of utter shock as he slid down the wall, leaving a massive, crimson stain in his wake. His eyes were open as he died.

Everyone stared at the dead Death Eater, and then turned their eyes to the source of the explosion.

Mrs. Granger was standing on the other side of the bed, holding what looked like to Ron to be a huge wooden cane with a long metal tube; the end of the tube was smoking, and Mrs. Granger had a look on her face of sheer fury; her arms shook as she lowered the gun and leaned it against the nightstand.

For a long moment, nobody seemed to breathe. Suddenly there were two loud pops; Ron and Hermione both yelled and pointed their wands, but then Hermione clapped her hand over her mouth to see Remus Lupin and Nymphadora Tonks standing there.

Tonks was wounded; her arm was bleeding badly and there were bruises on her neck and face, but she looked furious. Lupin stood just behind her; his jaw was set and he seemed to be holding his anger in check.

All at once, everything seemed to become too much for Hermione, and she burst into tears. Ron felt his heart constrict, and he got up and pulled her into a hug. The guilt was almost unbearable, and he clung to her not just to comfort her, but to keep himself from falling over. Lupin helped Dr. Granger stand up as Mrs. Granger moved slowly from the other side of the bed.

'They broke the wards,' said Tonks, her voice low and dangerous. She ran a hand through her short, blue hair. 'Dammit!'

'Tonks, this is nobody's fault,' said Lupin.

'It was my responsibility!' said Tonks fiercely. 'I'm a Senior Auror. I checked those bloody wards half a dozen times tonight. And I got fooled by a stupid glamour.'

'A what?' said Dr. Granger, pulling his wife close.

'A charm to change one's appearance,' Lupin explained. 'A Death Eater transfigured himself to look like Tonks's partner and--

'--and got the drop on me,' Tonks snarled, sounding disgusted with herself.

'There were five of them,' said Lupin firmly. 'You couldn't have stopped them on your own.'

'It was my fault,' said Ron miserably. 'I didn't meditate, I should have seen this coming--'

'It was nobody's fault,' said Lupin, his voice going hard. 'We can't stand around here all night arguing about who's to blame. The Death Eaters did this. Fortunately everyone's alive.'

'Kenneth?' Ron asked hopefully.

'Unconscious,' said Tonks. 'I found him in the back yard; he's at St. Mungo's now. I can't believe they didn't kill him.'

'What matters is, you're all alive,' said Lupin.

'Remus is right, we have to get out of here,' said Tonks, and she turned and sucked in her breath at the sight of the Death Eater Mrs. Granger had shot.

'Whoa,' said Tonks, and she turned back to the Grangers. 'I'm not going to ask who did this, but--'

'What's that?' Ron cut in, hearing a strange wailing in the distance.

'Sounds like...sirens,' said Dr. Granger.

'Shit,' said Tonks. 'Coppers. We have to get you out of here now, and clean this mess up. And get rid of that bloody rifle. If the police find it here they'll throw you in prison and if they see you used it, you're talking hard time, no matter you were defending yourselves.'

'Ron, Hermione,' said Lupin, and suddenly, the four of them went into action; Hermione ordered both her parents to sit down as she and the others went about hurrying through house, casting Repairing and Cleaning Charms as they went. It took less than a minute, but suddenly Tonks appeared at the door of the bedroom again, and behind her floated a body.

'This one's dead, too,' she said. Ron's eyes widened as the Death Eater floated into view. It was the one Hermione had struck.

'There were two downstairs,' said Ron. 'What happened to the other one?'

'He must have gotten away somehow,' said Tonks. 'Maybe Disapparated.'

'Doubtful, I broke his leg,' said Ron.

'We can't worry about him now,' said Tonks. 'We've got about thirty seconds before the law arrives.'

'Ron, Hermione,' said Lupin, and he gestured to the Grangers as well. He grabbed a small brass box off a little table by the bed, pointed his wand at it, and muttered 'Kitchen, number twelve, Grimmauld Place. Portus.'

'Take this Portkey,' he ordered. 'Tonks and I will deal with this. The Weasleys are expecting you.'

The sirens had stopped and suddenly there was banging on the door.

'Take it!' Lupin hissed. 'Dr. Granger, Mrs. Granger, hold on to Ron and Hermione.'

They both nodded, looking absolutely terrified. Ron and Hermione took a hold of the small brass box; Ron's heart was pounding louder than the pounding that was issuing from the door.

'Tonks,' said Lupin desperately, and she nodded and closed her eyes, screwing up her face in concentration.

'One, two, three...' Lupin muttered, tapping the brass box with his wand. The last thing Ron saw before he felt himself yanked from the room was Tonks transforming into an exact replica of Mrs. Granger.