Fly Me Back

Harry Potter : Fly Me Back

Chapter Four : The Lesser of Two Evils

Since the night that Harry found out he was a wizard, there had been many occasions in which he imagined what it would be like if his wizarding world collided in full force with his Muggle world (in a good way). He had tried so many times to envision something that could actually cause his relatives to have to work in cooperation with his friends and teachers, and through them, him. He had tried to imagine a scenario where his mother's family would finally come to the realization that maybe they would need his help for something. They were always simple musings, like Uncle Vernon asking him to bewitch the grass to look better than anyone else's during a drought or maybe Aunt Petunia asking him to magically cook an important dinner after the real one was burned. Never, in his wildest dreams had he imagined this, but here it was and there was no spell that was going to get them out of this one.

The only thing that was going to get them out of this situation was his Muggle aunt and Harry's answer to her question. Had he done everything that he could to save his uncle from dying at the hands of Sirius's murderess? Even if he gave her an answer she was going to accept, would she help him, help them? He searched her eyes, the ones so unlike her sister's, which were tearing up from the effort of trying to keep his attention. Somewhere in those eyes there had to be a solution to their problem and the answer to his own question -- could she find a way to see passed everything like she had that Halloween night so many years ago and save his life one more time?

As another CRACK resounded, he forced himself to break eye contact with his aunt and instead distracted himself by counting the holes in the walls and overturned furniture. About half of the way through his count, however, he had to go back to the beginning and start over. The witch in the Death Eater mask was still lying prone on the ground in the center of the room at Moody's feet, although it appeared that her body was starting to writhe back into consciousness. The witch who the others had called Molly apparently noticed the movement right away from her spot on the floor about five feet away because she tossed a rather ugly glare at the woman and pointed her wand in the Death Eater's direction with an Anti-Apparation Charm and followed it closely with a Silencing Charm as well. From the expression on her face though, she definitely regretted not having one of the others do it for her because the slight movement of her leg, even with Mr Weasley's binding of it, caused her to yelp in pain and her Silencing Charm to miss by a good foot. Harry couldn't help but wince with her as she reached down to pull the source of her pain back to an almost straight position. She looked up at him and stretched a smile though, which made him write a mental note to himself to apologize to her and all of the others for having to go through all of this for him.

Hearing Molly's expression of pain, Moody angrily reared his good leg back to kick at the Death Eater for good measure, but Lupin broke his own attention span briefly enough to shoot the Auror's normal eye a warning look that put the wizard's foot back down on the floor. Remus's face softened to an affectionate concern as he turned his full attention from Aunt Petunia and Harry down to Molly, dropping down beside her to help the wounded witch with her leg. He pulled a handkerchief out from the pocket of his pants and pressed it against the gash on the side of her head as well. He smiled his worry at her then looked up to Mr Weasley, who was nervously dividing his attention between the back door, Molly, and Harry. Harry was glad that the man was too busy being concerned about other things to notice the angrily hungry glares that Fred and George were giving the simpering Dudley from behind Moody. If Harry knew the twins as well as he thought he did, they were both busy plotting a revenge for the black eye that he could feel darkening his face, courtesy of his cousin. If Dudley had thought that the curses he'd taken from the twins upstairs was the only punishment he was going to be getting, he was sorely mistaken. In the meantime, the twins satisfied themselves with sending Molly's errant Silencing Charm down to the Death Eater, who was starting to ragingly scream headaches into everyone's heads.

With the third or fourth BANG, Harry had to fight not to cover his ears and shut out all of the noise going on in and around the house. He was having a hard time thinking or focusing on any one thing and the screaming was only making it worse. He'd had enough screaming for one night. Part of him was itching to join Fred and George in whatever twisted little prank they were mentally setting up for his cousin to pay him back for the pain in his head. It was swinging in and out of better and worse, leaving a pounding in his ears that he was sure he hadn't felt in quite a long time. The last time he had felt this bad, physically anyway, had to have been that time when he had . . .

"You still with us, Harry," asked Lupin, looking up from one wounded patient to another and breaking Harry's quickly derailing train of thought. Harry offered him a small nod, which wasn't enough reassurance for his former teacher. "Are you going to be all right to get to headquarters?"

"Yeah. I'm okay, Professor."

Lupin moved on to the next of the wounded, but before he could even ask, Mr Weasley was informing them all that he was quite all right and had been through much worse. With a sideways glance at Harry he added, "Although I have to admit, I'm going to feel a lot better when we get out of here and we can all relax. Harry, what other ways are there to get out the -- "

"Damn," Mad-Eye swore, interrupting Mr Weasley's question. Moody's electric blue magical eye -- which had been working tirelessly since the Auror had arrived -- roved around inside his head, seeing beyond the walls of the Dursley house and out into the yard on all sides. As soon as the screams had begun outside, it had started swirling so violently in every direction that it nearly spun right out of its socket. His wand at the ready, he turned repeatedly in a full circle so that while his normal eye was aligned with the rest of his body, the other was looking through the back of his head in the opposite direction until he got a full view of whatever was happening outside number four's walls. No one needed to ask what he was seeing, though, as his free hand twitched every time another BANG announced the Apparation of another witch or wizard. While a new torrent of screams flooded the street with each new arrival, he swore again and again with words that Harry was fairly certain he had never actually heard used before.

Apparently still trying to maintain at least some semblance of dignified control, Aunt Petunia finally broke her stare away from the hole she was burrowing into the side of Harry's head, flipped her hair out of her eyes, huffed and snapped, "Watch that language in my house. Were you raised in a barn?"

Moody either didn't hear or was choosing to ignore the woman's request because another colorful word spewed out, along with a few sparks from the tip of his wand. "Six . . . Seven . . . "

Remus, Molly, and Arthur all exchanged meaningful glances, realizing just exactly what the mumbled numbers meant. The number kept going up as Moody ticked off the arrivals of more and more wizards. With each one, the bleaker the faces got of the others in the room until finally the BANG noises started to slow in frequency. They could literally feel their time running out and escape routes being blocked with each new CRACK

Suddenly, they all started speaking in such rapid fire succession that Harry could hardly keep up with their argument. Mr Weasley and Lupin said something to one another in low whispers before Mr Weasley turned urgently to Moody, who was still spinning around in cautious circles, the expression on his face one of intense concentration. "Mad-Eye, you need to Disapparate out of here. As far as the Ministry is concerned, the rest of us have a legitimate reason to be here and with Harry. You don't. Fudge shouldn't even know that you -- the real you -- have actually had any contact whatsoever with him. Dumbledore needs you to still be -- "

Moody shook his head in disagreement. "It doesn't matter, Arthur. I'm not going. If Fudge puts two and two together, bully for him. That doesn't mean he's going to put us all together with Dumbledore or the rest of it. I'm not leaving without all of you. It isn't safe for any of us."

"Moody -- "

"No, Arthur, he's right," Lupin interrupted, even though he looked like he couldn't believe he was agreeing with Moody at the moment. "There aren't enough of us to split up properly and protect both Harry and his relatives, especially if we have to blast our way out of here. We don't have a choice. Besides, the odds of Fudge even thinking that either one of us is here for any reason other than as a favor to you is . . . "

"Not too good," Mr Weasley finished for him, his eyebrows raised in argument. "Fudge may have admitted that You-Know-Who is back, but that doesn't mean he has changed his opinion about Dumbledore, Harry, or any of the rest of us. He's coming in here suspicious and you know it."

Aunt Petunia looked between the three men like they were all insane, which Harry knew in her book wasn't too far off from what she had always thought of all of them in the first place. She turned back to her nephew, looking for an explanation. "What are they going on about?"

Before Harry could open his mouth to answer, Moody growled in response, very clearly so that she wouldn't misunderstand, "That, Mrs Dursley, is one of those questions that we don't have nearly enough time to answer at the moment."

As if to prove that point for him, Bill Weasley came charging in through what remained of the front door, wand raised. As all eyes turned on him, he jerked his thumb over his shoulder. "Company," he announced.

"Ministry," Lupin asked, even though he was fairly certain of the answer. Moody may not have said it out loud, but there wasn't the same kind of urgency to the Auror's posture as there would have been had their reception committee been made up entirely of Death Eaters. The only other people in the world that could make Moody this tense, however, were Ministry people -- and that was saying quite a bit considering what a nervous ball of energy Moody was on a good day. Ever since the previous war with Voldemort, Moody -- in fact, all of them -- had a certain mistrust of Ministry workers. There was no way to really know now who was working under the Imperious Curse's influence -- or Voldemort's. And when it came to Harry and his safety, none of them were going to be taking any chances with Cornelius Fudge or any other member of the Ministry.

"Fudge," Bill quickly confirmed and added, his voice groaning with annoyed dread, "He's got the house surrounded and sent another eight or nine down either side of the street to deal with the Muggles. Figgy's trying to keep them out as long as possible for us."

The ultimatum she had issued her nephew now temporarily forgotten, Aunt Petunia looked around wildly at the word 'surrounded', grabbing onto Dudley's collar and pulling him close to her once more. While he struggled for breath against her chest, she turned first to Mr Weasley then to Professor Lupin and croaked, "What does that mean? Is that bad?"

"It could be," admitted Lupin. As quickly as he could and still keep his voice calm he tried to explain, "Mrs Dursley, a year ago before the end of the school term, Harry witnessed the wizard who is responsible for the murders of your sister and my two best friends since I was a child return to power and -- because the Minister of Magic is more concerned with power and keeping his job -- the Ministry has actually undermined all of our efforts to stop Voldemort in the subsequent year. Fudge would like nothing more than to make Harry and the rest of us disappear if it meant that he could keep his power over the Ministry."

"And if we don't get Harry out of here," Mr Weasley added with just as much hurried calm, "Fudge may use this as an opportunity to detain him on some trumped up charge just to get him out of the way."

"So he's here for my nephew?" She cast Harry a look (identical to that of her son's) that exhibited no surprise whatsoever that he had managed to get himself in trouble with the law. They, after all, always knew that he was just asking for trouble with his weirdoing ways. Seeing the look was actually a relief to Harry, though, because the sight of Aunt Petunia carrying on conversations with wizards in the family lounge was starting to become just a bit too much for him. Petunia must have thought the same thing as well because they both went back to regarding each other rather strangely in wait for his answer to her question.

"But he's going to have to get through all of us first," Moody declared. He unflinchingly clomped straight to the head of the group so that he would be the first wizard that Fudge would see when he came through the front door. His voice dark but somehow reassuring, he ordered all of them, "Check your wands, everyone. If it comes down to it, we may be fighting our way out of here. Keep them close at hand. Potter, I want yours out and ready. If the rest of us should be killed, there will be reinforcements waiting for you at the same checkpoint as last summer. Fly hard, fly fast, and don't look back."

Aunt Petunia let out a soft cry as every person in the room but her nephew reached their hands inside their robes, obviously feeling up their wands, and closed ranks around herself and what remained of her family. The idea that this lifestyle, this thing that she had hated since the day her freak sister got her Hogwarts letter so many years ago was now the thing that was supposed to protect from harm her and her son was just a little too much. But Harry thought that perhaps there was also a certain gratitude that she couldn't quite understand yet because her face changed as he watched her watch even a wounded Molly use Lupin as an anchor to pull herself up and prepare for battle, leaving Petunia looking slightly, strangely encouraged. He could tell that she still thought them all freaks, but at least they were going to keep her and her Doodums alive.

Moody's hand was still ticking off the count of wizards surrounding the house when he noticed that Harry was standing there empty handed. "Potter, get your wand out! How many times do I have to tell you, boy? You're going to get yourself killed yet!"

Harry flinched at the suggestion of untimely death considering the circumstances, but quickly -- and not just a bit fearfully -- told everyone in the room, "They took it."

"The Muggles?" Moody looked like he wanted to add a few more expletives regarding Harry's relatives, but chose to glare at Aunt Petunia instead. "I thought we warned you just a few weeks ago that -- "

"No," said Harry quickly, knowing that their time before they were no longer alone was running quite short. As much as he would have enjoyed seeing his aunt and cousin get another talking to from Moody, they just didn't have the time for it. He gave Lupin a meaningful look, his eyes burning once again with hatred for the woman whose name he still couldn't manage to say out loud. "She took it."

"And that witch of a sister of hers, too," Fred said from the wall beside his brother. Fred and George both nodded and moved to either side of Harry, having been the only other conscious witnesses to the heist in the backyard. "They put it into some sort of box before they Disapparated," George added, gesturing the dimensions of it into the air for his father to see.

Lupin, Moody, and Mr Weasley all exchanged quizzical looks, which did not leave Harry all that reassured. If they didn't know what was going on, then there really was a problem. Aunt Petunia seemed to pick up on his sudden discomfort because she whimpered again, what little hope she had had that these people would be able to protect her and her son quickly fading. If her nephew couldn't even hold onto his weapon-wand-whatever, their outlook couldn't be all that good.

On Petunia's snivel, Arthur looked at the two people in the room who had seen the Ministry wizards accompanying Fudge for some sort of encouragement and a good sign. "Moody, Bill, do we have any help?"

"Tonks and Kingsley both," Bill smiled out of the corner of his mouth.

Moody watched through the front door for just the briefest of seconds before informing them, "But it looks like Fudge is sending her with the Obliviators -- "

"Obliviators," Dudley gulped.

Lupin raised a calming hand in the direction of both Dursleys, his face the picture of absolute reassurance toward them. "Memory modifiers. They're just going to make sure that none of the Muggles who were watching everything in the yard remember anything that they saw. It's for your protection as much as it is ours."

Ignoring the Muggles in the house, Moody went on over them. "He's sending . . . five . . . six . . . eight of them with her . . . He's sending Kingsley to the back door. . . No, wait, he's coming in with them . . . They're grouping . . . Fudge is arguing with Figgy . . . She's giving him quite a fight, too." Moody actually smirked out of the corner of his scarred mouth with a sideways glance at Mr Weasley. "She just slapped your boy good and hard."

"Percy is with them?"

The small glimmer of happiness the man would have had at the chance encounter quickly withered at the sounds coming from his other children. The twins both groaned in exasperation. As much as Mr Weasley hated to admit it, the last thing any of them needed right now was Percy making this any harder than it needed to be. Considering the love affair that Percy had had with the Ministry since he left Hogwarts, the chances of him being even civil to his family were not all that good. He'd left home after a fight with the family last summer and had barely said a word to the family since. He had even slammed the door in their mother's face when she had tried to talk to him. The twins' groans were quickly stamped out by their eldest brother, who shot them a warning look and meaningful glance toward their father. Mr Weasley didn't quite disguise his pained expression quick enough, leaving Harry and the twins all feeling rather guilty for being so annoyed at Percy in Mr Weasley's presence.

Mr Weasley didn't have time to dwell too long on his estranged son's feelings, however. Something clicked in Mr Weasley's head as soon as he realized that his third son was going to be stomping into the room, the thought lighting up his eyes with a new urgency. In a hushed voice he ordered, "Not a word about Harry's wand to the Ministry. I'll explain later. Whatever you do, don't say a word about what happened tonight. We need to talk to Dumbledore first."

Before anyone could acknowledge his order, Mrs Figg did her best to announce the Ministry's grand entrance and the end of their reprieve with a shrieking, "Unhand me this instant!"

Everyone in the Dursleys' lounge caught and held on to their breath as the round-chested Cornelius Fudge marched the batty old woman in through the demolished front door. The mismatched pair was flanked on either side by a group of four wizards -- including Mr Weasley's third son Percy and the tall, bald black wizard Kingsley Shacklebot -- all with scowls on their faces and brightly lit wand tips. From behind Harry, they also heard the entrance of another three or four more wizards. Harry looked down at Moody's fingers as he counted and ticked them all off. Yep. It was four. He fought the urge to grunt his despair, instead reminding himself of what they had all been trying so hard to convince his aunt of. They were going to get out of this. Moody, Lupin, and Mr Weasley were going to get him out of there, no matter what it took to do so. He was going to be safe. They had never let him down before. They weren't going to let him down now.

Still, no matter how much he cared for and trusted all of the wizards who were standing at his side, he had to shove down the little voice in his head that taunted him. There's a first time for everything, Potter.

The frightened moan that was stuck behind the lump in his throat was more than compensated for by the wizards who had entered the family's home. Once they had all piled in and surrounded the group inside the sitting room, the Ministry workers took stock of what they were seeing. There were a few unintelligible murmurs, but they all knew for certain that they heard Percy Weasley swear, "Merlin's beard!" The young wizard, who had not been physically seen by his brothers since the day of Harry's Wizengamot trial last summer, looked his father and brothers up and down, glared at Harry, then surveyed their surroundings one more time. He swore again, this time prompting his father to open his mouth in an unspoken scolding for saying such a word. Percy pompously looked away and ignored his father, his ears red with even the insinuation that Mr Weasley had the right to scold him at all anymore.

While he wasn't the first to recover from the shocking devastation of the room, Fudge was the first to speak to the members of the Order and company. He stepped forward, careful not to let his newly polished purple pointed shoes mingle in the splatters of pudding around the room. He pretentiously tugged on the cords of his cloak to call attention to himself as if he were about to make a grand pronouncement. His voice was airy with that phony kindness he saved for people he knew were up to something as he asked, "Would someone kindly explain to me what has happened here?"

When no one jumped up and down waving excitedly to answer him, Fudge searched the room until his eyes zeroed in on Harry. He raised his eyebrows authoritatively, and without bothering to hide the almost Snape-ish pleasure he was experiencing at catching Harry in a troublesome situation again he asked, "Potter?"

Fred and George stepped just a little closer to Harry on either side of him, while Bill sidled in to stand directly in front of him, shielding their friend from any direct view by Fudge or his pack of Aurors. Bill shot his brothers each a look before he offered, "Harry didn't do this, Sir."

Fudge looked first at Bill's red hair, then Mr Weasley's before making the connection of who exactly Harry's newest great defender was. His eyes narrowed at Bill's while he reached into the pockets of his waistcoat and pulled out a stack of papers. "Mr Weasley," he nearly cooed, "I have in my hand four letters regarding instances of Underage Magic taking place at this address tonight. And seeing as how everyone else in this room appears to be of age, I think the warnings all belong to Mr Potter. Wouldn't you agree, Potter?"

Before Harry could answer, one of the Ministry workers that had come through the back door said rather callously, "Minister, there's a dead body on the back stairs."

Aunt Petunia squeaked an indiscernible cry while Dudley struggled in her arms angrily. "That's my dad you're talking about!"

"Dead?" Fudge's expression looked far from appropriately concerned or even politely considerate. Instead he looked utterly delighted at the circumstances as he craned his neck around Bill's shoulder and asked Harry, "Your uncle is dead, Potter?"

"Murdered," Harry corrected hotly.

"Murdered? Really. By whom, Potter? Allow me to guess -- "

"Death Eaters."

Fudge actually laughed and shook his head with a phony pity for Harry. He clicked his tongue on the roof of his mouth several times, Tsk-ing Harry before going on. "Death Eaters. That is always such a convenient story for you, isn't it, son? Tell me, does The-Boy-Who-Lived have names this time, too?"

Ignoring the commentary that he knew perfectly well to expect from Fudge, no matter how angry it made him, Harry quickly blurted with an angry shudder at her name, "Bellatrix Lestrange."

"Malfoy's wife, whatever her name is," added George heatedly.

"Narcissa Malfoy? Lucius Malfoy's wife?" There was a strange catlike grin on Fudge's face, like he had a little field mouse caught by the tail and was about to start batting it back and forth between his paws. "Really, Potter, I know that he's in Azkaban and all, but just because you don't like the man, that doesn't give you the right to go about accusing his entire family of dark activities. We are a civilized society, Potter. We don't have . . . "

"WE SAW HER!" Harry hollered in unison with Fred and George.

"Really," Fudge replied snidely.

"Yes," emphatically replied the boys, like it was about time that Fudge caught up with them and their way of thinking. Granted, considering the treatment Fudge had been handing Harry since the Tri-Wizard tournament, none of them expected the git to catch on too quickly, but they all thought that there was a fair amount of incontrovertible evidence in plain sight on their side this time.

Fudge looked at Percy, who was borrowing Fudge's smile for his own face while staring down his increasingly angered brothers. "Then explain to us," Fudge said, his twisted smile growing even bigger, "how it is that your brother and I were just interrupted during a fine dinner with her and several other respected members of the Hogwarts governors?"

Harry's stomach sank through his shoes, leaving an icy trail down his spine. He hadn't known the woman's name, but he knew that face like none other. There was no way that he was mistaken. He knew that Fred and George wouldn't have said the name either if they hadn't been completely certain. It was her. It had to be her. He barely had a voice at all to whisper, "What?"

"That's right. Since Lucius was unable to attend for obvious reasons," Fudge paused to glare with dark insinuation at Harry then went on, "His lovely wife Narcissa was kind enough to attend in his place. She had some rather interesting things to say about the way that the school is preparing for the new term . . . "

"That wasn't her! We saw her. She's the one Mr Weasley was dueling with and -- "

The Minister sternly shook his finger in Harry's direction, like a father on the brink of yelling at his son. His eyebrows disappeared under the brim of his hat and he attempted to silence him with, "I think we've had enough of your stories for one lifetime, Mr Potter."

The line of Fred, Harry, and George all hollered once again, "WE SAW HER!"

This time Fudge didn't even bother to glare at the boys. He left that to Percy, who was more than just a little happy to take over the duty for his Minister. He even nodded solemnly at the man, the two of them condemning the boys' story to lies without any further defense. Fudge's eyes flickered on Harry's for just a moment longer before he made up his mind to finish the discussion for himself. He stood up straight again and tugged on his pinstriped waistcoat. With a grand gesture, he left Percy behind so that he could focus his attention on Aunt Petunia, who tried to meet his gaze but looked quickly to Harry for reassurance that this was going the way it was supposed to be. He gave her the best nod he could, even though he didn't really feel all that confident himself.

"Mrs Dursley, you have obviously been through an incredibly traumatic experience here tonight," Fudge began. He adopted that same soothing, sweet tone that he had once used with Harry many, many moons ago. He even began to reach for her hand, which she quickly pulled away and used to cover her son's overgrown shoulders again. Fudge appeared startled by the lack of trust, and after casting Harry a dirty look for apparently putting anarchic thoughts in Petunia's head softened his expression to something even sweeter than the last. "Mrs Dursley -- may I call you Petunia -- Petunia, I am certain that even with all of your knowledge of our world, the collision of our world and yours tonight here in your home -- "

"My husband's home" corrected Mrs Dursley proudly.

"Yes, yes, of course," he said, brushing her off with a shake of his head and a wave of his hand. "As I was saying, I am certain that whatever story your nephew has told you about Death Eaters and the like, I am . . . "

Petunia Dursley, not having ever cared about the governing bodies of her sister's world, didn't care about the obviously uncaring ramblings of the man in front of her any more tonight than she had in the last fifteen years of caring for her nephew. Determined to maintain what little control she had left over the goings on in her husband's home, she looked to her nephew, who looked back at her with her sister's brilliant green eyes. That look of ultimatum came back into her face and she reminded the young wizard, "I'm still waiting for an answer."

Harry had almost forgotten about the question. He thought it was a trick question. If their fate actually hung on his answer, it was more than just a trick. It was cruel. Either way, whatever answer Harry gave his aunt, she wasn't going to believe him, not after all of the things Fudge had already been putting in her head. Suddenly, Harry found himself wishing that Professor Lupin had agreed with Moody and had just dragged them all out of the house before anything else could go wrong. But there she was, her arms wrapped protectively around his cousin and looking like she wanted everyone in the room to know that this was still her house and she was still the one in control. There was something else there, though. It was something honest, something that Harry had never seen. Maybe, just maybe, if he gave her the right answer, she really was going to trust them and help them out. Either way, it was plain from the look in her eyes that now was the time to answer and she meant to have an answer before anyone in the room took another step.

He could just tell her "yes". Yes, he had done everything within his sixteen year old wizarding powers to save his uncle. That was all he had to say. "Yes" was such a simple little word. He said it probably fifty times a day. Yes. But would that be the truth? Had he done everything possible to save his uncle? Something about the way Aunt Petunia had worded the question told him that she was seriously wondering if he had hated his uncle enough to just let him die. For a fraction of a second, he even wondered himself if that were true. Had he hated his uncle so much that he had unconsciously delayed his own efforts to save the man? Could he possibly have gripped his wand just a little bit tighter to keep Her from taking it from them? Had he been deliberately slow to react when she had risen unbound from the ground? There was no doubt in his mind that if his aunt had witnessed her husband's death, she would be asking herself those questions about him. Even though in his mind he thought he knew that yes, he had done everything he could and that it was silly to think anything otherwise, Aunt Petunia wouldn't believe him if he told her so. He knew that she had already answered that question for him.

So he could just go with that instinct and tell her "no". She was probably expecting to hear "yes" just because there was no other way to really answer a question like that. What person, right or wrong, is going to flat out tell an uncomprehending, newly-made widow that he didn't do everything possible to save her husband? Naturally she was expecting him to say "yes". To tell her "no" wouldn't be anywhere near as expected, unless she was counting on him being far too honest for his own good. Maybe she was waiting for him to admit that fifteen years of anger and hatred had come to a head for him and he had purposely allowed his uncle to die. Maybe she was just waiting to see a self satisfied smile all over his face in triumph over his uncle's death. He supposed it was possible that his aunt really thought that little of him that she would expect such an answer.

Whichever answer he gave her, yes or no, she wasn't going to be satisfied with it. There was no way to answer her and not look completely guilty. She had already made up her mind that he was a person capable of watching her husband die without a care in the world. Like her husband, Petunia Dursley had made up her mind about her nephew the morning that he was left on her doorstep fifteen years ago. He was just as awful and freakish as her sister and that husband of hers. There was no room for exceptions.

Of course, there was always the possibility that he was making too many assumptions about his aunt. She was, after all, his mother's sister. They were raised by the same parents, and considering how his mother had inspired such undying loyalty even fifteen years after her death, maybe the Evanses had passed on some of that goodness to their other daughter as well. Maybe she wanted to believe that he had tried to save Vernon and that she was just looking for he, Harry, to reassure her that he was a good person that could be trusted to lead her and her son safely away from the place that had just seen the death of her husband. Maybe she just wanted to know that her nephew wasn't the cause of everything that was happening to her. Maybe, just this once, she was looking for an honest answer and was going to be open to hearing it.

Maybe this was that one time that his two lives were going to pulled together in a good way and that they would all need and accept each other's help. Maybe.

So there it was, his answer, even if he had to take a roundabout way to get to it. As much as he wanted to, though, Harry still had to fight the urge to look to Lupin and Moody to make sure he had the right answer. Instead, he willed his eyes to remain locked on his aunt's and with as much pleading as he felt he could allow into his voice whispered to her, "Yes. I think I did."

Petunia let out a breath it seemed she had been holding since she had asked the question then nodded at her nephew with relief. Then, an air of conclusion taking over her body, she let her son go and gently shoved him in the direction of his cousin. She took two very deliberate steps around the group surrounding Harry then one more step forward toward Fudge, who was sputtering at having been cut off mid-sentence, and made a pronouncement of her own.

"Sir, I don't trust these people. I never have. They have threatened my family on countless occasions on behalf of this boy -- " She glanced at Harry. Fudge took the break in her voice as a stop and gathered the air to speak condemningly of them all, but she cut him off with a flash of her hand. "I wasn't finished, Sir. Now . . . They have threatened me, my husband, and my son on several occasions. They have blown up this lounge, given my son a tail, and torn the window of his room right out of the wall. And yet they have had the nerve to threaten us on his behalf, which . . . which leads me to believe that he trusts them to always do right by him." She looked to Harry for unneeded confirmation then continued on his nod. "My nephew obviously doesn't trust you and neither do they. Therefore, as much as I loathe the idea of allowing my family to be associated with any of your kind whatsoever, under the circumstances, I have to believe that if my nephew trusts them and not you, I'm going to have to ask you to take care of whatever business you have with the neighbors and please leave this house and my family alone. Good night to you, Sir."

Harry couldn't tell who looked more appalled at Mrs Dursley's request, Fudge or Percy Weasley. They both looked utterly flabbergasted at the idea that the Minister of Magic could be tossed from a residence, let alone talked to in such a way by a Muggle. Both men had their mouths flapping wildly like fish out of water for a good five seconds before Fudge managed to sputter, "Madam, I realize that you have had a terrible night, but to-to-to put your faith, misguided though you may be, in these people . . . " Fudge started pointing wildly at the wizards surrounding the Dursleys with disgust. One by one, he named off the flaws of each person. "That one, Moody, is nuttier than a fruitcake at Christmas! He thinks his own dustbins attacked him! And that one is a werewolf, Mrs Dursley. I know you don't have any experience with our world, Madam, but I tell you that to put your trust in a werewolf is a dangerous business. And Weasley, he's -- "

None of them caught whatever worthless trait Fudge assigned to Mr Weasley because Dudley's piggy eyes popped wide open and he squealed excitedly, "A werewolf?"

Harry cast him a dirty look and hissed at his cousin in warning. "Dudley!"

"And Potter, well . . . " The Minister had saved his most convincing evidence for last as he started in on Harry, leaning in just a little more toward Mrs Dursley, like he was letting her in on a juicy secret. "You know, Petunia, the incident with Potter blowing up your husband's sister several years ago wasn't the first or the only such incident. While I'm certain you never read The Daily Prophet, Petunia, if you had you would know that your nephew has become quite famous for creating such chaos as this and then lying about -- "

Seeing that Harry was about to explode in temper, as he had been known to do from time to time, Bill shortly interrupted the man in his friend's defense. "We all saw them, Minister. I saw her kill Harry's uncle firsthand."

Taking Bill's defense, twisting and running with it in the opposite direction, Fudge went on accusing Harry. "Just like all of the other things he's seen happen over the last few years, right, Potter? You may have been right about the return of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, but I still doubt the veracity of how it came to be. As far as I am concerned, you still have quite a few unanswered questions there, young man. And as mine is the voice of the wizarding community -- "

"The Prophet, you mean," Fred interjected, the freckles on his face disappearing in the burning redness that was rising from his toes to the top of his head.

"Which you used to tell lies of your own about Harry and Dumbledore to keep it quiet that Voldemort had returned," George added, freckleless as well. Whether that was because he had actually managed to say Voldemort's name out loud for the first time or because of his anger, Harry wasn't too sure. Either way, he was feeling a great swell of affection for the brothers because as he looked over at his aunt, he could tell that she was listening to them with a great deal more attention than she was to the blubberings of Fudge.

Mr Weasley reached through the people between them to grab the shoulders of the twins' shirts and tried to pull them back, only to be shrugged off hotly. "Boys . . . "

Fudge countered, "Yes, well, he'd already said that You-Know-Who had managed to come back through some absurd diary to attack the students -- "

"Including our sister, who also told us exactly how it happened," George began. Fred finished for him, "Are you going to smear her name in the papers, too?"

This time it was Moody who tried to calm the situation down with a much more authoritative, "Boys!"

Fudge wasn't hearing any of their comments at all. He just continued on rattling off any story he could think of that involved Harry and the situations he had been entangled in since his first year at Hogwarts. "He managed to get his wand stolen, or so he says, only to have it used to conjure the Dark Mark at the Quidditch World Cup two summers ago. And that ridiculous story accusing one of his own professors being a host for You-Know-Who so that he could feed until he could steal -- "

"IT HAPPENED!" shouted Harry, Fred, George, and now Bill as well.

Lupin, Mr Weasley, and Moody all responded with an even louder, "BOYS!"

"And now you say Death Eaters attacked your home?" Fudge actually laughed this time. "Really, Potter, do you not get simply exhausted telling all of these lies and then keeping them straight all of the time?"

"Minister," called Molly, trying to grab the man's attention and, hopefully, pull him back to the situation at hand. She pointed down that the witch who had chosen to attack her instead of Disapparating out in time and looked plainly at Fudge, who eyed her quite suspiciously. Speaking a good twenty decibels lower than the others she asked, "Perhaps you could explain then why there is one lying right there on the floor?"

Fudge waved her off with a grunt at the insinuation of his blindness. "One is hardly proof of anything these days. School children have been wearing the masks as pranks to scare their parents in their bedrooms for years."

"That's no child on the floor," said Lupin, also keeping his voice at a normal speaking level. He gave Harry and the Weasley brothers all a glare that told them that they ought to do the same. This situation was far from being any less dangerous than it was when the Death Eaters surrounded them. They couldn't afford to lose their tempers or give too much away. He looked around at everyone in the room to remind them that the adults would do well to behave in the same way. He continued on while he frowned at them all, "But I think that we can all agree that -- "

Harry could see the frustration on Lupin's face that he didn't get a chance to calm things down as much as he would like because, just after they all heard a pleasant "Reparo!" sound from the front hall, all of the bricks and shattered pieces of the door flew back into place, colliding with one another to reform the door and slam itself shut. Over the noise, the members of Harry's company heard the all too familiar sound of a woman tripping over the umbrella stand and its contents that were sprawled all over the front hall floor. Not a single pair of eyes missed the opportunity to roll up to the ceiling as Tonks clumsily tromped her way into the room, muttering accusations at the umbrella stand as she came in.

When she was standing upright again, she nicked her head over her shoulder. "Uh, sorry to interrupt, but the Obliviators need more help out here . . . " She gestured at all of the Aurors in the room and directed them outside, but not before winking at Kingsley. "You'll be all right if it's just Weasley and Shacklebot, won't you, Sir?"

Fudge did not look in the least bit happy with the suggestion, but shrugged with a sigh. "I suppose. Go. Get it done."

Tonks and Kingsley exchanged a rapid serious of expressions and hand signs behind Fudge's back once the other Aurors were passed her and into the front hall. She looked directly at Harry and winked. "On second thought, I think I'll stay right here."

"Fine. The rest of you get out there before the Muggles start phoning the papers and more police," Percy grunted with an approving nod from Fudge. Then, almost as an afterthought he added, "Except Smith and Beckinshire. You stay as well."

Lupin swapped a brief look with Tonks that Harry couldn't quite read before he offered a protest to both her and Kingsley's presence. "Minister, there is no need for you to have any of the Aurors at your side here. The only Dark Wizard in the room has already been subdued and isn't going anywhere."

"They're staying," Fudge barked.

"Have it your way," said Remus. "But there really isn't a need for -- "

"I will, Lupin, thank you very much," Fudge snapped at Lupin like he was disgusted at even being spoken to by the werewolf. "I didn't realize that I needed your permission to run my Ministry."

"Of course not, Minister. That really was not what I intended to -- "

Fudge ignored the wizard's apology and went right back to smearing Harry. "In that case, if you're quite done attempting to divert my attention from the situation at hand, I would like to get back to the fact that this boy has once again started -- "

Mr Weasley edged forward, shielding the Harry and Dursleys from Fudge's view. He clasped his hands in front of him and spoke quite calmly, like he would if he were trying to calm his own wife down after the twins had warranted yet another owl sent to the house from school. "Minister, this has been a rather trying night for this family and I don't believe that any of them, least of all Harry, are prepared to sit through several more hours of questioning by the Ministry. What they need is a place where they can gather their thoughts and to be allowed to grieve. They need a place where they can be safe."

"Are you suggesting, Weasley, that they wouldn't be safe in my care?"

"I am suggesting, Minister, that they don't need to be surrounded by strangers shoving Veritaserum down their throats." Mr Weasley glanced back at Aunt Petunia, who was once again clutching a suffocating Dudley to her breast. He gently smiled as reassuringly as possible at her before he looked back at Fudge, who was quickly becoming a color that even Uncle Vernon wasn't capable of achieving at his angriest. "Whatever the past circumstances, Mrs Dursley and her son have met and are familiar with all of us, and as you heard before, she is willing to come with us because her nephew is. What they need right now is a feeling of safety, Minister, and that isn't something that the halls of the Ministry can offer them."

Moody turned around on his good leg, clomping the other around a second later, until he was facing the group he was there to protect. His voice was low and gravelly as he commanded, "That being said, it's time we were out of here. Fred, George, I want you to take Harry and Molly back to -- "

"ALASTOR MOODY!" Fudge hollered the Auror's name so suddenly that nearly everyone in the room jumped out of their skins but Moody.

Moody turned only his scarred face toward Fudge so that all the wizard could see was the side of his face with the missing chunk of his nose quite obviously bristling. Sweetly sarcastic, Moody replied softly, "Minister?"

"NONE OF YOU ARE GOING ANYWHERE!"

Mr Weasley stepped in between the irate Minister and the threateningly smiling former Auror. Still maintaining that calm, non-argumentative tone he informed Fudge, "This isn't negotiable, Minister. We are leaving and we are taking Harry and the Dursleys with us."

"Father," Percy started warningly.

"Keep out of this, Percy," said Mr Weasley without glancing at his third son. Holding his voice as even as it was before, he began again. "Minister, whether you approve or not, before the argument that ensued here Mrs Dursley asked you politely to leave her home. As Harry's guardian, she has stated that he is coming with us. Now you can do as she has asked or you . . . "

Both Fudge and Percy spouted at the same time, "ARE YOU THREATENING THE MINISTER OF MAGIC?"

Harry caught his breath as suddenly a change came over his best friend's father that none of them could ever have imagined. Mr Weasley, who was generally a rather patient man, lost any and all remaining patience for the Ministry's head. Minister of Magic or not, Cornelius Fudge was proving to be more than just a smidgen useless not only to the Ministry, but also as a human being. Mr Weasley seemed to grow another five inches as he stood up tall and straight in a way that he never had before. The laugh lines that came from years of good natured laughter and love with his family thinned out with the tightening of his jaw. His eyes darkened behind his glasses as they glared dangerously at the much shorter wizard in front of him. It was then that Harry realized that everyone had been right. It was Mr Weasley's love of all things Muggle that was holding him back at the Ministry. This man that stood in the middle of his aunt's lounge was suddenly prepared for the battle of his lifetime and there was absolutely no doubt in Harry's mind that Mr Weasley was going to come out on top.

Animal instinct taking over with the advance, Fudge, too, seemed to change his demeanor. All sense of propriety and station were lost. He narrowed his eyes on his Misuse of Muggle Artifacts office head like he was a bug to be squashed under his purple pointed toe and quickly. The two men stared at one another until with an ice-melting menace Fudge threatened, "Don't make me do it, Arthur."

Mr Weasley's eyebrows became one as his entire face narrowed in response to the challenge. His voice, however, remained that same quiet calm as he retorted, "Minister, unless you leave these people alone and let us take care of Harry as we were asked to, I'm afraid that that's exactly what you're going to have to do."

The Minister of Magic's lips spread so thin that they disappeared with colorless fury. This wizard and all the rest of Albus Dumbledore's little cult of followers had challenged his authority far too many times. This time Weasley had even dared to do so in front of an entire entourage of his loyal Ministry workers. There was only one thing that he could do -- give the defiant wizard one last one last chance. His lips and teeth moved only enough to tightly seethe out the words, "Don't make me do this in front of your children, Weasley."

At first it seemed that everyone in the room had stopped breathing. The laugh lines around Mr Weasley's eyes pulled back and twitched as he smiled almost daringly with just his eyes. Fred, George, and Bill all crossed their arms over their chests defiantly and turned their eyes on their other present brother, silently warning him to do the same. Percy, however, turned his eyes away from them to lock them resentfully on his father.

"Don't do this to us, Dad," said Percy. Of course, everyone in the room who knew Percy at all knew that he really meant Don't do this to me.

Smiling his usual gentle, fatherly smile over to his son, Arthur offered the only apology Percy would ever get from the man for what was about to happen. "Percy, I think it's time that you remember who your family really is."

"You aren't doing this for the family," Percy argued. "Harry isn't the family, and neither are these Muggles."

Dudley, being the brutish bully that he was, immediately jumped down Percy's throat without even considering what he was saying. "Who're you calling Muggles, you weirdo?!"

"SHUT UP!" the other Weasley brothers all yelled in unison before Harry even got a chance to open his mouth to do the same.

Mr Weasley didn't seem to hear any of the exchange as he sadly offered his own comment to his son. "Harry is family, Percy, and he has been for a long time. You used to know that."

Defiantly, Percy took a step backwards, putting just a little more distance between himself and not only Harry but the people he had called family for eighteen years. "I don't care if he's The-Boy-Who-Lived or the Heir of Gryffindor himself. He isn't my family."

"Then neither are we," Mr Weasley said matter-of-factly, although his face drooped just a bit with the realization of the final straw of loss. Percy was lost to them quite possibly for good.

The look was not lost on Fudge's assistant. He puffed out his chest and lowered his voice dangerously, sounding for the first time in his life like a real adult to his father. "In that case . . . Minister, may I?"

"Of course," Fudge responded with a grand outward gesture and grin.

Percy moved forward, turned in a circle to see that all eyes were on him, and magnified his voice so that there wouldn't be a single pair of ears to miss his pronouncement. "Arthur Weasley, you are hereby fired from the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Office of the Ministry of Magic by order of Cornelius Fudge, Minister of Magic, for acts of direct insubordination as directed under Section 134, Appendix G, of the Code of . . . "

"Percy, you prat," Fred hissed.

"It's all right, Fred," Mr Weasley soothed.

"But Dad -- "

"No, George. It's quite all right," Mr Weasley shrugged. He jerked his thumb over his shoulder toward where Moody had set Harry's trunk. "Go on, children, catch up Harry's things. We're leaving."

Once again, Fudge sputtered, "You c-can't do that."

There wasn't the slightest bit of regret on Percy's face as he played the only card he felt he had left to play, the Mother card. "Dad, even if you don't care about yourself, don't do this to Mum. Think about what this will do to her."

Mr Weasley, however, looked like he had been expecting his son to attempt to blackmail him in that way. His smile was still kind, though, as he informed his third child, "Percy, you are my son and I will always love you as I have since the day you were born. You are brilliant and talented and I want to believe that your mother and I raised you to be a good person. But, son, we are in the midst of a war and it's time to make up your mind once and for all what side you're on. The rest of us have."

"What are you saying?"

"I'm saying that my family is more important to me than this job ever was. That means all of my family." Mr Weasley glanced over to Harry and nodded proudly at him, causing them both to blush just a slight shade of red. When Harry nodded back, Mr Weasley spoke up again, this time to both Fudge and Percy. "Now, we are walking out this door and we are taking Harry and his family with us. You can try to stop us if you like, but we -- "

"NO ONE IS GOING ANYWHERE," Fudge yelled again. "Aurors, take these people into custody."

None of the Ministry Aurors moved, but they all looked around when both Tonks and Kingsley let out short laughs and answered him with a simple, "No."

Not a one of the band of members of the Order had to look at one another to know what to do next. They pulled themselves together into a knot and stood there, shoulder to squared shoulder in their defiance as Mr Weasley took two very calculated steps forward from the rest of the group. Fudge, too, walked closer to the center of the lounge to meet him, his body absolutely radiating with rage as he took in the sight of the people in front of him. He looked like he wanted to curse each and every one of them right into Oblivion.

There was a tight silence in the room as every single person, wizard and Muggle alike, held their breath and watched while the two men squared off in the middle of the Dursleys' devastated sitting room. Fudge's face pompously puffed up, ready to boil over at the first word out of anyone's mouth. To the surprise of everyone but the Weasleys and Harry, Mr Weasley, however, seemed to deflate a bit. There was a strange calm that came over him for the briefest of moments, his face relaxing in a way that told them that this was all over. He had made his choice for them all, and no matter what he was going to make sure that they all were going to be just fine.

With a commanding air that none perhaps his children had ever seen from the normally kind, jovial wizard, Arthur Weasley's eyes darted among the faces that were staring at him. Without bothering to be at all discreet, his eyes closed in on the faces that were most important, the ones that he could most readily trust. Two sets of eyes locked on his in return. Then, to what was most certainly the relief of all who had banded together behind Harry and each other long before this, Tonks and Kingsley stepped away from their stations in the room, holding their heads high in bold insubordination as they revealed where their true loyalties lie.

Fudge immediately started sputtering again, his face actually growing darker than anyone thought humanly possible. His fingers wagged erratically about as he tried to point in any direction at all, not sure which one of the company of rebels to blame for this insubordination first. "B-b-b-but -- you-you-you -- I don't be-be-believe -- "

Without looking at any of his cohorts, Mr Weasley stared hard at Fudge and began to issue a series of orders over his shoulder that he had no doubt would be quickly, happily, and (Harry imagined) quite deliciously carried out by all involved. Even with Fudge humming and hawing ever louder with words that were far from fit for polite conversation, the newly unemployed wizard continued on until every order was issued, never breaking his gaze with Fudge.

"Tonks, Kingsley, you two take the Dursleys to the safe house and get in touch with him. Send us an owl when you're settled in and he's there. Remus, Moody, I need you two to go directly to the location. You know which one I'm talking about. Molly, I want you to go with them as well and have someone fix up your leg. Bill, Fred, George, you're to take Harry and head for the location. You know what to do. Remus, Moody, as soon as Molly is taken care of, I want you two to meet up with the boys at the second checkpoint and get them back to the house when you're certain it's safe. Before you leave, send me as much help as you can. We need to take Mr Dursley someplace safe as well. Mrs Figg, if you would kindly go back there to sit with Mr Dursley until I am ready, it would be greatly appreciated."

At the mention of Uncle Vernon, Aunt Petunia turned a panicked eye once again to her nephew, which reminded him all too harshly of what was really going on in the sitting room around him. In all of the distraction of the battle of wills that really had nothing at all to do with him or what had happened, he had had a short reprieve from reality. But now, seeing his aunt's stricken face, he was thrown head first back into everything. His uncle was dead, killed by Voldemort's most loyal Death Eater, the witch who had murdered Sirius. His aunt was husbandless, his cousin fatherless. Their home was destroyed. It was no longer safe. In all of his years, he had always been guaranteed two protections -- that he would be safe with Dumbledore's protection and with the protection of his mother's blood, to be in his aunt's house. More and more of his protection was slipping away from him. And now they were all making a much more public stand against the Ministry of Magic than they had since Dumbledore had reformed the Order of the Phoenix. They had been working in secret against Fudge and his stronghold over the Ministry in ways that had been nearly undetectable. But now Mr Weasley had lost his job, Tonks and Kingsley were certain to lose their jobs, and all because they were trying to walk him out of his house.

And yet, somehow he managed a small, reassuring nod to his aunt that she had made the right choice and that they would all be safe. They regarded one another for the umpteenth time that evening, knowing still and all along that none of this really made any sense. It didn't make a whole lot of sense at all, but there it was and they were both going to have to figure out how to move on to the next step. It had always just been accepted that as soon as Harry was eighteen years old, he would be walking out of the Dursley household for the last time. Neither one of them had ever imagined that they were going to be doing it together. Aunt Petunia seemed to be thinking the same thing, and as she nodded her trust back Harry made a silent promise that he would find a way to bring her back home so that she would get a chance to say goodbye properly, without the threat of Fudge or anyone else looming over her. Regardless of how they had disliked one another over the years, she deserved at least that much.

"Harry?" Fred called out to him, breaking his attention. "Let's go, mate."

"I'll take that, if you don't mind," Aunt Petunia told the twins as they reached down to grab Harry's trunk and the bag that they had packed up for the Dursleys. She tried to take the bag from on top the trunk, but George faked a smile at her and hoisted it onto his shoulder. She smiled genuinely back and, suddenly distracted at the thought that they were leaving the house for a few days to destinations unknown, started to ask the twins, "Will it be cold where we're going? I do hope you packed my Doodykins a sweater then and his warm pyjamas. He gets so cold at night, you know. And his -- "

"They took care of it, Aunt Petunia," Harry told her quietly, grinning first at her then at the twins. "Anything else we can get later."

"Then let us be off," she pronounced, again taking control of her household and everyone inside it. Everyone in the group grinned at her this time and they all surged forward like a troupe of school children leaving on a camping trip.

"Hear, hear," Tonks shouted happily.

As they all made their way out the door, Fudge hollered one last time, "YOU WILL NOT BE LEAVING THIS HOUSE WITHOUT MY PERMISSION, DO YOU HEAR ME?!"

When no one even turned around to look at him, he glared at the only person (besides his confused Aurors, Smith and Beckinshire) who was still facing him. "I am warning you, Weasley, don't you even think about setting one foot outside this house without my permission or I will make your life more miserable than you could ever imagine."

There was no amusement in his face as Arthur Weasley frowned at the Minister of Magic and said quite simply, "I don't work for you any longer, Cornelius, remember?" The wizard then turned his back on Fudge and Percy, made an agonized face that only Moody could see with his magical eye, and proceeded to usher his company out of the room. "That would be your cue to take your leave."

"Be careful, Dad," Bill said seriously. "We'll send help right away."

Mr Weasley shook his head to say that there was nothing to be careful about. "I'll be along as soon as its all taken care of, boys. Tell your mother not to worry. Just get Harry home safe."

Harry didn't have the right words to thank his best friend's father, but he tried to at least be polite. "Er -- thank you, Mr Weasley."

"No time for that right now, Harry. We'll see you soon."

"Watch yourself, Arthur," Moody warned in his normally nervous, vigilant way as he ushered the members of the Order and their charges out of number four, Privet Drive, and into the backyard to take their flight for what would more than likely be the last time.

"All right, then, Tonks, you out first. Potter, stay close to her . . . "

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If you've had half as much fun reading this chapter as I've had writing it, well then I've had twice as much fun writing it as you've had reading it. Thanks for reading!