The Lion and the Unicorn

-Only Our Rivers Run Free, Michael McConnell

While Harry cut his birthday cake many miles away, Arabella and Mundungus were just leaving Hogwarts, where they had been briefed for their mission. They, along with a few other experienced members of the Order, had been elected to supervise the goings-on at the summit that night, an important and very dangerous position to be in. According to the spy planted amidst Voldemort's supporters, it was to take place at a Muggle graveyard at approximately midnight, under a moonless sky.

Arabella shut the door behind her just as a chill breeze swept across the grounds, making the trees whisper in the half-shadow that was the Forbidden Forest. Although it was only just past five o'clock in the evening, it was already twilight there; it never seemed to get much lighter. She glanced at Mundungus. He was staring off into the distance as if searching for a sign, a trace of someone long past, and Arabella bowed her head. He had experienced loss that she could not even begin to imagine, and so she gave him a few undisturbed moments with his thoughts.

She raised her eyes when she felt his eyes upon her and smiled weakly. "Ready to go?" They would be taking a Portkey to the Muggle town and meeting in the local pub with the other members of their team before making the journey up to the graveyard.

Mundungus nodded vaguely, his eyes settling back on the horizon as if he were expecting some visible dark specter to appear. They both took hold of the Portkey and a second later, no trace of them could be found at Hogwarts.

*

The fact of the matter was, Charlie reflected, that Mundungus and Arabella were experienced and that he was not. The fact rankled with him. Part of the reason he had come back from Romania was that he couldn't stand watching while the world collapsed into chaos. Yet here he was, helping with a birthday party when he should have been protecting the ones he loved from evil-

"Relax, Charlie," Anya commanded.

He started, glancing over his shoulder at her. He hadn't known she'd been watching him. "I'm trying to relax," he said, sighing in defeat. "How can I possibly be calm when two members of our team are out there fighting for our freedom and I am here, co-hosting a party? Anya, I must be going insane. How are you keeping your wits about you?"

Anya smiled slightly. "Someone here has to." She shrugged a bit, glancing over at the lively group huddled around the piano. "Besides, haven't I always been the calm one?"

Charlie recalled a simpler time and grinned a grin so wide it was almost a leer. "No."

Anya's eyebrows shot up. "Don't you dare bring that up now," she warned, a playful light in her eyes.

"What?" Charlie asked innocently. "Most of them suspect something's up, anyway. You heard what Ginny asked me as clear as I did, I bet. And it's not like you act as if our relationship-"

"Charlie," she warned again. This time, she wasn't playing. The teasing expression was gone from her face, replaced by one of pleading. Something in her voice wrenched his heart. "You promised."

"Right," he said after a pause, feeling foolish. "Er- sorry- I just…"

"I know," Anya said, a vestige of desperation still lingering in her manner. "But we've been over this before. I don't want to have to be afraid that you'll just bring it up- in any conversation- I- Charlie, that's too hard. Okay?"

He nodded, properly chastised, but did not voice another apology. She was not ready to be teased about their past relationship; he knew that it was harder on her than she let on. It was difficult for him, too, of course, and maintaining their friendship when the romance was over had certainly taken a lot more restraint than Charlie thought he had. Though he wouldn't admit it to himself, he would have done it all over again without changing a thing if given the opportunity.

An outbreak of the giggles near the piano drew his attention, and Charlie turned his head to see Ginny, red-faced, doubled over in laughter and pointing at Harry, whose birthday cake had exploded and left him with frosted eyebrows. Fred and George (as well as Sirius) were grinning ear to ear, Ron was wiping icing off of his nose, and Hermione looked as if for once, she didn't know what to say. Remus, however, was shaking his head in a knowing fashion. Charlie too smiled, but his felt somewhat bitter beneath the skin.

Anya gave him a look of understanding, and together they joined the rest of the group in singing 'Happy Birthday,' this time with the real, non-exploding cake.

*

"That's them," Arabella stated confidently, watching the two men who had just entered the little pub.

"You sure?" Mundungus asked suspiciously, raising an eyebrow as one took off his cap to reveal shockingly blue hair. "I thought we were dealing with experienced professionals?"

Arabella regarded him blandly. "You didn't get the descriptions; I did. You got the code words. So hurry up with them already."

Mundungus cleared his throat. "Bartender, the lady wants another Shirley Temple!" His eyes tracked the two men as they crossed the room and took the table behind Arabella. Blue-Haired Man's friend looked a bit sulkily to both sides of him as they walked. He might have been a handsome man once, but now it seemed as if the fire in his soul had gone out, leaving behind an empty shell.

"A Shirley Temple?" he asked with false curiosity.

"Some women just can't hold their alcohol," his blue-haired companion answered. Both of them were watching Mundungus and Arabella, trying to appear inconspicuous but not doing a terribly good job of it.

"Never mind," Mundungus said. "The bill, please!" He paid the man and they left, stepping into the shadows to the left of the door. They didn't have long to wait.

A few moments later, Blue-Haired Man and his companion appeared. "You're our contacts?" Blue-Haired Man asked. Arabella nodded. "Nice to meet you. Granted, the circumstances could've been better. I'm Daedalus Diggle- this is my partner, Amos Diggory."

Diggory extended his hand and Mundungus shook it solemnly. "So you're the man who spotted the traitor," Mundungus said, immediately intrigued.

"Well, yes," Diggory admitted without the least bit of pride. "And will likely spot him again before the night is through. Shall we go?"

The way up to the graveyard was uneventful, mostly due to the incredible Invisibility Charm Arabella was maintaining. She was fairly exhausted by the time they made it to their positions, however, and so they brought out the potion she'd made, which was to be effective for five hours exactly. This was at nine-thirty.

At half past ten, Daedalus dropped out of the conversation. Suspecting something, Arabella prodded the region he'd been in with her foot. There was a loud snort and Daedalus, who had apparently been sleeping, awoke with a start. Mundungus scolded him sharply, and the minutes ticked on.

At eleven o'clock, a thicker darkness seemed to close in. A short, stout figure clad in brown appeared, wandered around the tombstones for a bit, then pulled out a wand with his left hand, lit it, and inspected the area for intruders. He sat down on a large tombstone at eleven fifteen, apparently satisfied.

At a quarter to twelve, another darkness arrived. This one was tall and wiry and held a steaming goblet in his left hand. The stout man shook almost imperceptibly on his tombstone and stood up warily.

At midnight, the party started.

*

At midnight, the party was finally over. Streamers, silly string, and confetti littered the floor. A werewolf, four teenagers and a baby were sprawled out across the sofas. Sirius Black was asleep with his head on the piano keys. Charlie found that somewhat amusing, because there was an apparently exhausted Shee sleeping on the rest of the piano. He wished he knew where Fred and George had put the camera. They and the rest of the Weasleys, minus Ginny, had gone back to The Burrow, but since Ginny was still blissfully asleep (and apparently without nightmares this time), they had decided to leave her where she was.

Charlie scooped up Leon, who had been in danger of falling out of Hermione's grip, and carted him off to bed, taking care not to wake him. He had been up far too late because he was slightly ill and had been crying; Anya, a little too worried about him, had allowed him to stay up and since then he had been remarkably well-tempered.

Returning to the sitting room, Charlie woke the adults and sent them to bed, unwilling to listen to laments of stiff necks and aching backs the next day. Only then did he take time to wonder how the observation of the Death Eaters was going…

*

The Dark Lord and his cronies Apparated to the graveyard at precisely the stroke of twelve. They had probably met somewhere else prior to the summit, wanting to make a good impression (however far-fetched that might be to some). At the same time, another group appeared, generally taller, darker, and better built. They were not wearing masks, like the Death Eaters were, nor did they need them; they did not seem to have features at all, just a dark sort of emptiness about them that made Arabella's skin crawl.

Wormtail called the assembled masses to order, then passed the direction to his master.

Lord Voldemort walked forward slowly, then stood before the group, holding on to a tombstone for support. "Followers and visitors," he said, his voice somewhat lost in the darkness, "we have gathered here tonight for the union of our two forces in what is to be the battle to end all battles. Indeed, war would be a more appropriate word- the Mudbloods and Muggle-lovers must not be allowed to mock true magic any longer! You are all aware of the terms of this union. Step forward, Sheridon O'Devlin, and accept our invitation back to the world of the mortal- as something much more than any other man has ever been before."

The tallest of the dark shadows moved forward and bowed formally to the Dark Lord, who, to Arabella's extreme surprise, was also bent low to the ground. From behind him, there came another tall, thin shadow, this one holding the steaming goblet. He couldn't show his respect the way the Dark Lord and O'Devlin had due to the potion, but merely gave a deferential nod and held out the goblet.

The shadow grasped it in both hands and bent its head low over it. The potion cast a strange red glow on his silhouette, as if it were alive. Then, awash with the red light, it tipped back its head and the goblet and downed the potion.

The figure that was Sheridon O'Devlin seemed to shake. The goblet fell from its hand, no longer necessary. An earsplitting howl broke the sudden silence and Arabella watched in horror as the features on the creature-

-began to shift. The man started to laugh. It sounded hollow, pained and entirely too sinister.

Thunder shook the earth and forked lightning split the sky. Arabella jerked forward and hit her head on the tombstone, feeling something warm and sticky on her hand when she reached up to inspect the damage. Knowing that she could do nothing until the Death Eaters were gone, she paid as much attention as she could to the Dark Lord and his kindred. Sheridon O'Devlin continued to tremble through his laughter, more steadily until he was shaking no more but rocking slowly back and forth. Even as she watched in horror it became less a shadow and more solid.

As something of a final touch, the fog swirling on the ground near O'Devlin twisted round and seeped into his clothing. O'Devlin stood tall, still laughing but now in a deep and (Arabella immediately regretted thinking) seductive way.

Lightning flashed once more, silently, in the distance. The enemy forces disappeared, leaving behind an air of confusion and despair.

In Azkaban, the Dementors stopped and laughed.

In his office, the Headmaster looked up from his paperwork, troubled.

At Dromore House, Ginny and Harry awoke from their nightmares.

*

It took her a moment to orient herself in the darkness, about the same moment she used to make sure that this nightmare, like the others, was not real. There were no Death Eaters there. There was no graveyard. The burning in her stomach began to subside as images of what she had seen fled her mind. Eventually the events of the previous night flooded back and she recognized the room she had been sleeping in as Anya Dickinson's sitting room.

After another few seconds, she realized that she was not alone in the room. Her pillow, for one thing, seemed to be Hermione. Someone was also sitting on her foot, and she had pins and needles all the way up her leg. Ron muttered something in his sleep and Ginny almost jumped out of her skin.

"Who else is awake?" Harry's voice came through the darkness on the other side of Ron.

"It's Ginny," she answered, hoping she sounded less afraid than she felt. "Sorry if I woke you."

"No, you didn't," Harry replied. "Bad dream is all." There was a rustling that could have been Harry rubbing his scar.

"Oh. Same here." Ginny shifted around in the dark, unwilling to move but suddenly cold all over. "It's freezing in here," she said for the sake of conversation.

"There's an afghan on the back of the sofa," Harry suggested, smothering a yawn by the sound of things.

"Thanks." Ginny groped for it blindly and was about to give it a tug when a light flickered on in the kitchen. She could just hear a voice through the door.

"You're sure you're alright, Arabella?"

"Just a bump," another voice answered. "Go on and get the others- I'll make some tea."

Ginny thought it a bit strange that the other tenants should be coming home at such an hour, but decided not to break the silence to ask Harry about it.

Harry, too, remained quiet, and ceased all audible movements as the man who had been speaking came through the sitting room. He passed through the doorway to Ginny's left and returned again a moment later with a man so tall that it could only be Sirius. Sirius made his way to the kitchen and disappeared from sight; Shadow-Man went to Ginny's right and collected three other forms from that wing of the house. They all went into the kitchen.

Ginny gave a last curious glance in Harry's direction, then got up and padded to the partially open door.

Carefully pressing her eye up against the crack, Ginny peered into the room beyond. At the table sat Charlie and a woman with long white hair that she didn't recognize. She had a gash on her forehead that led Ginny to the conclusion that she was Arabella. Also present were Anya, Sirius, Professor Lupin, and a man who matched the profile of Shadow-Man: the man who had gone to fetch the others.

"Mundungus," Anya was saying as she leaned over the old woman, tracing her wand across her forehead, "Maybe you'd better explain just what went on at this party of yours."

Mundungus shook his head slowly and began an exact recounting of Ginny's nightmare. She listened as if entranced to every word and was still spellbound when it was over.

Sirius spoke first. "So we're too late. They're back." He then said something that would have made Ginny's mother clap hands over her daughter's ears.

"Hush, Sirius," Anya placated calmly, finishing her Healing Spell. "It's not the end just yet. Charlie, could you hand me that bandage?" Charlie did so, blankly (at least to Ginny's eyes), and Anya smiled gently. "Thank you."

Sirius looked as if he were about to object to Anya's offhand rebuttal, then shook his head silently and took the door through to the dining room. Anya sighed heavily and looked to Professor Lupin for direction, but he only shrugged and gave an obvious glance towards the dining room. Anya sighed again and followed Sirius.

This left Ginny spying on Charlie, Professor Lupin, and two near-strangers. She didn't plan on keeping it that way, however, as she already had a good deal of food for thought. She backed slowly away from the door.

Her back hit something fairly solid and Ginny nearly screamed aloud. A hand covering her mouth prevented that much. "Sh!" Harry hissed in her ear. "Just me, remember?"

Ginny nodded, trying to keep her erratically beating heart from thumping so loudly. Harry released her, taking one huge step backwards as he did so. Ginny tried not to miss his warmth. "I'm just going to- lie back down again," she said, falling over her feet a bit and stumbling back to the sofa. She stifled the sigh she wanted to let out as Harry's shadow moved to the other door.

*

Her eyes followed him out of the room and beyond and she sighed heavily. Sirius was always so goddamn difficult. Anya turned a pleading gaze to Remus, hoping he was willing to sort his friend out, but he just shrugged and motioned that she should follow him. Exasperated, she left the room, pausing just inside the doorway.

She could see his outline against the wall: he had his hands clasped behind his back and seemed to be examining one of her father's old wall-hangings. "Sirius?" she asked uncertainly, leaning lightly against a stout oak chair.

"I'm too late, aren't I?" she heard him ask quietly. "Too late to make much of a difference and nothing can be done about it now. This battle has already been lost."

"There was nothing to do in the first place," Anya pointed out. "Besides, you were needed here for Harry's birthday party. You would've felt worse if you'd missed that- no more guilt trips."

"You just missed the point," Sirius said mildly, and Anya could feel his wry smile in the darkness. "But I'll pretend I didn't notice."

"Very charitable of you," said Anya acerbically, "Now would you please explain further?"

"It's quite simple," Sirius said, and recited: "Our job is to keep tabs on the Death Eaters, who are making pacts in graveyards with Drifters, whose sole purpose of existence is to wreak havoc on the earth." Anya thought that Sirius himself was pretty good at wreaking havoc, but decided it was a bad time to interrupt. "Oh, but I forgot," Sirius continued, his tone acid, "They also like to kill Sidhe."

"I don't follow," Anya said, her voice near a growl.

"I know, Anya," he said, deadly quiet. "I know about you and Leon- little half-bloods, great targets since all the Sidhe seem to be in hiding. Anyone could find out and come after you… and you never told me."

"Sirius, I've never tried to keep that a secret from you."

"Well, you did a damn good job of informing us all of your abilities," he growled. "I thought we were getting to the point where we could trust each other."

"I thought we were getting to the point where we respected each other," Anya shot back, annoyed. "I don't ask you about Azkaban." She was immediately sorry she'd brought it up, but it was too late to take it back. "I have my secrets, too."

She watched as he flinched away from her, turning further into the darkness. Her gut wrenched. She hadn't meant to reopen old wounds, but now Sirius' barriers were down- for a moment she could see how scarred he really was; his shell was gone and truth laid bare. He looked miserable. "Some of my secrets are not what you'd expect, Anya." He opened the door and left through the sitting room.

*

Harry made it back to the couch in time to keep from being spotted. He was very nearly discovered anyway, because he'd sat on Ginny and very nearly scared the wits out of her again. He heard her clap a hand over her mouth.

The shadow that was Sirius retreated to his bedroom and Anya shut the dining room door firmly behind him. Harry snorted to himself despite the situation and pulled himself off of Ginny, trying not to wake whichever of his friends was sleeping to her left. "They're even worse than Ron and Hermione."

Ginny sounded amazed. "I heard some of that conversation- they must hate each other!"

Harry shook his head. "That's just it- they don't. They get along like a house on fire ninety-eight percent of the time. As for the two percent, when they fight, they put these two to shame." He gestured to the two sleeping teens. "Sometimes I think it would be better for all concerned if they did hate each other. When they get like this, all they end up accomplishing is making the other feel guilty."

"Very Ron and Hermione," Ginny admitted, sounding drowsy. "About the only time they get on is when they're sleeping."

"They're not much fun when they're sleeping," Harry whispered as Arabella and the rest of the gang closed their bedroom doors. "They have the right idea, though." He yawned. "G'night, Ginny."

"Good night," Ginny replied, blushing furiously and trying to banish images of other fairy-tale goodnights she used to dream of.

Something slumped against her arm. She jumped. The something gave a snort and snuggled into her knee.

Ginny looked down at it curiously. It had curly hair and was drooling a bit onto her leg. She thought for a moment that it might be a good idea to ask Harry if she was meant to go home…

But the thought left her, and sleep took her, and no nightmares haunted her sleep that night.

*

The days passed by quickly and unremarkably, save the unusual lack of Drifter activity, and before Charlie knew it August 30^th was upon him. He made one last hurried trip to Diagon Alley to pick up a copy of Magical Creatures and Where To Find Them, and then he would be off on the early train to Hogwarts until Christmas.

This naturally meant a very difficult goodbye; he hadn't been away from Anya for more than two months at a time since he was eighteen years old.

There was a going away party at The Burrow; his friends and family wanted him to have a good time before he left. There was also some debate about whether they should take Harry and Leon with them or leave them at Dromore House, but that decision was an easy one to make and they both joined the party list.

By the time Charlie arrived at The Burrow, he was well aware that not only was he growing older, but entering a crucial stage of his life known as the mid-twenties. The next day was his birthday, and after July's events he felt every day of twenty-six.

Through the open window, Charlie could see that there were streamers hung up, as there had been at Harry's birthday, and various cakes and gifts on the table. Feigning nonchalance, Charlie grinned and pushed open the door.

Immediately he was assaulted by a small crowd of people, not the smallest of which was Ginny, who grabbed him around the waist and squeezed him tightly. "Happy birthday!"

Charlie smiled genuinely, but didn't get the chance to reply properly before Anya and Leon were upon him.

Awkwardly because of Leon, Anya planted a kiss on both of his cheeks. Leon tried to stick his fingers up Charlie's nose and squealed with delight when Charlie sneezed.

Eventually Molly managed to get everyone to gather in the living room, and finally Charlie got a chance to see who had turned up.

Aside from family, Anya and Leon included, there were only a few friends from the Order of the Phoenix. This was undoubtedly due to Sirius' presence, which Charlie had insisted upon. Sirius himself looked somewhat guilty; he probably thought that it was his fault that no more guests had showed up or something to that extent. Charlie thought it was unlikely that Jacques would fly out to see him for a day and fly back after, or even Apparate. It was getting increasingly difficult to tear him away from the dragons, especially Anita and Alonzo. Charlie understood that- leaving them behind had been hard for him, too.

Remus sat beside Sirius, his eyelids drooping. The full moon had been two weeks previously, but he'd been out on a reconnaissance mission the night before and hadn't gotten in until three in the morning.

Fred and George were next; they looked, like always, as if they had a huge, destructive, dangerous secret they were about to let loose on everyone. Ginny had Leon in her lap and thus the attention of Harry, Ron, and Hermione, who were gathered around them.

On the other side of the room, Percy was boring Bill with details of some Ministry matter or another. Poor Bill was trying desperately to escape and having very little success. Mr. Weasley was involved in a conversation with Amos Diggory and Daedalus Diggle. The rest of their team had gone missing in a very suspicious way and Charlie knew that Bill was still reeling from the loss of a few good friends. The remaining members were assigned to Charlie's team as a complementary unit.

Molly was monopolizing Anya in one corner of the room, and Arabella and Mundungus had just joined that conversation. The Burrow was suddenly a very busy place.

Feeling antisocial for sitting and observing a party that was for him, Charlie rose from his seat and decided to rescue Bill from Percy. "Excuse me, Perce," Charlie cut in, grabbing his older brother by the shoulder and steering him out of harm's way, "Confidential business- you know how it is."

"Of course I do," Percy replied, bristling at the mere suggestion that he might not 'know how it is.' "Just go about your little transaction- I've got work to do."

Bill made a face behind Percy's back as the younger brother Disapparated. "Thanks, Charlie. I owe you one."

"Don't mention it," Charlie said, smiling slightly. "I seem to remember you doing the same for me on multiple occasions." Bill didn't smile. Charlie winced inwardly- he knew the state he would be in if one of his team members went missing, let alone a third of them. Unconsciously she shot a glance at Anya. She had moved on to talking to Daedalus Diggle and looked as if she must've just gotten the same story, because she met his gaze even as he looked away.

Bill, though, had apparently caught everything that the glance signified, because his manner changed enormously. He went from stoic and silent to afflicted and tired, and Charlie noticed for the first time the bags under his older brother's eyes. "You don't know how lucky you are."

Charlie shook his head. "Believe me, I do." Bill looked dubious, and Charlie easily sensed that he needed more than that to reassure him. "You know how they say you never know what you had until you've lost it?"

Bill nodded warily.

"Well, I lost it," Charlie told him. "And maybe I found it again, but it isn't the same anymore afterwards." He tried to smile and found that he couldn't. "But enough with the self-pity party. I'm going to be twenty-six tomorrow, and that's all the reason I need to get roaring drunk tonight."

"That I can handle," Bill said, grabbing something off the table. "This is Percy's gift- guess he was too busy to give it in person."

Charlie inspected the bottle. "Chinese Schnapps?"

"Nope," Bill said, opening it with a pop. "It translates to something like 'Dragon's Blood' or 'Dragon's Breath' or something. Percy may be a stick in the mud, but he has good taste." He grabbed two glasses off of the table and handed one to Charlie, then poured one for himself. "Bottoms up."

"Wait, wait," Charlie said suddenly, not ready to get completely wasted just yet. "What shall we drink to?"

Bill seemed to think a moment; his eyes took on a faraway look. "To living life with no regrets," he eventually said.

Somewhat surprised, Charlie regarded his older brother with new eyes. Bill was scarred much deeper than he'd originally thought. "Yeah," he said after his pause. "Yeah, I'll drink to that."