Look After You

We joined up with Lee that night in the woods somewhere in the middle of Scotland. Apparently, his parents owned a little one-room cabin, and we were going to spend a bit of time with him there. Until we were needed on the battlefront, anyway.

We apparated into a clearing in the pitch black. None of us dared to ignite our wands; you never could tell who might be lurking in the trees and I didn’t care to cross paths with some Death Eater. Apparition happens to be exhausting, if you didn’t already know, and even the thought of dueling someone afterward made me sway on my feet.

Fred, George and I dropped down onto the spongy dirt in our clearing, waiting for Lee to show up. After a little while, there was a faint pop from a thick stands of trees. We all drew our wands cautiously but Lee came loping out, his teeth the only visible part of him in the faint light of the moon.

"Welcome to the party, mate," Fred said with a grin, stepping forward and shaking his friend's hand, "You came sooner than we expected."

"The Death Eaters around my house left earlier than they usually do. I was able to get outside sooner than I expected." He replied.

"Why didn’t you just disapparate from inside?" George asked, shaking Lee's hand, too.

"All the protective charms my parents put up for me. I'm well past seventeen, but they've made it near impossible to get in or out of the house magically or otherwise. I don't think they expected me to leave, but with all of You-Know-Who's friends around, I would’ve been crazy not to. I didn't know Lacey was coming!" He stepped forward with another grin and hugged me. Hard.

"I didn't either, actually," I said into his shoulder, "'S good to see you, Lee."

"Right," He released me and took a step away, motioning behind him with a wave of his arm, "It's not far, but we better get a move on. I'd rather not be outside for too long."

We followed him further into the forest, walking single-file behind him, wands still unlit. Thankfully, there was a bit of a path and the moon was bright, so stumbles were few. Before long, I could make out a gradual brightening as we approached another clearing. We broke through the last bit of brush and found ourselves standing on the lawn of something that I supposed may have resembled a house… once, a long time ago. Maybe.

"I thought you said this was a cabin," George muttered, the first to advance toward it.

"It was." Lee replied, chuckling. "No one's been here for years. Should be cozy, though. Better than sleeping out in the open, don't you think?"

"Barely," Fred laughed.

We walked carefully across the open space to join George near what looked like a splintered version of a front porch. The door was hanging off its hinges and most of the glass in the windows was shattered. The wood planking on the outer walls of the structure was mostly rotted and, upon closer inspection, seemed to have been completely deteriorated in some areas. I looked at Lee with raised eyebrows.

"Oh, come on," He nudged me in the ribs, "It's not nearly as bad as you think. The inside is okay, and we can use magic to fix the rest. We're on the run, remember? The destitute have no right to be picky."

He led the way onto the front porch, then lifted the door aside so that we could move through. He'd been right about the inside, actually. He had obviously already done a bit of cleaning; many of the collapsed ceiling-beams had been lifted aside and piled in the corner of the tiny room.

"Right, then," I said, drawing my wand, "Let's fix this up a bit."

We spent hours that night, waving our wands to sweep dust or repair walls. When we had finished, we were all filthy, hungry and completely exhausted, but the little cabin more resembled a place one might reside. I collapsed onto the floor, my head in George's lap. He grinned down at me and my stomach did a few small flips. He hadn't full-out smiled at me since the wedding, and it was refreshing to see him doing so again.

I closed my eyes contentedly and listened to Fred and Lee talking across the room over glasses of water.

"I wonder where Harry went," Lee said. My eyes were still closed, but I imagined Fred shrugging.

"Dunno, do I? He disapparated with Ron and Hermione as soon as Kingsley's Patronus finished talking. No one's heard from them since. Mum's bent up about it. She's afraid they'll all be captured and killed." His voice trailed a bit at the end.

"Do you think that'll happen?" I called quietly.

"Of course not!" Lee said. I opened my eyes to see him looking at me bewilderedly. Fred was staring at the table. He didn’t say anything.



We spent months in that little cabin, only leaving if it was one of our turns to go out and get food and a bit of news, if we could find it. Lupin and Kingsley came sometimes, to help with a radio broadcast that the Twins and Lee had started. They called it "Potterwatch", which was funny to me because no one had seen or heard from Harry Potter since August.

It was December now. We figured it must've been sometime around Christmas, but there was no way to be sure. Fred dragged in a miniature pine tree he'd found growing on the outskirts of the clearing and propped it in a corner, mostly because it felt wrong not to acknowledge the holiday in some way.

Though none of us would admit it, we worried constantly about the state of the world outside the walls of our cabin. Hardly any witches or wizards were willing to talk because of all the uncertainty, so there really was no way to tell what was going on. I secretly wondered if Voldemort and his followers had already caught and killed Harry, Ron, and Hermione. From the way Fred and George scanned through discarded copies of the Daily Prophet – pausing only when they saw Harry's name or photograph – I knew they wondered the same thing. Lee, on the other hand, remained incessantly upbeat.

Sometime in what we assumed was late winter, I woke up to an incredibly familiar screech owl tapping his beak against the repaired window.

"Herold!" I shouted, scrambling out from under the old Hogwarts robes I'd been using as blankets. I pushed open the door and he flew in, dropping a roll of parchment onto the floor at my feet. He perched on a beam in the ceiling and promptly hid his head beneath his wing. I picked up his delivery and went back to sit cross-legged on the floor.

"Wha's goin non?" George asked groggily, rubbing at his eyes with a fist. He sat up slowly and squinted at me.

"Who's yellin'?" Fred grumbled a moment later, rolling onto his side to face my general direction. Lee snored a bit but didn’t move.

"We've had an owl," I said, unrolling the parchment and nodding up in Herold's direction. "From your mother, I think."

Their eyes snapped open and they wrestled each other to get closer. Fred tore the letter from my hands and read it with wide eyes.

"Come on, you bloody idiot, we all want to know what it says." George said, scowling.

"'Fred, George, Lacey and Lee,' " Fred read aloud, "'The family wishes they knew where you were, but we understand that you're adults, now, and can do what you want,' "

"That's Mum, no doubt." George grinned.

"'Things aren't going as well as we'd like with the Order, but that's to be expected, I suppose. You-Know-Who isn't operating in the open, so he's rather hard to track down. He's protected so well, even if we did know where he was, no one would dare try to touch him.

'Ron came home for a little while in October without Harry and Hermione. He didn't talk about their "mission" much, but he did assure us that the others were fine. He left again in November. We haven't heard from him since.' "

"What a git," George muttered, shaking his head with a disgusted look on his face. Fred glared at him and continued.

"'It's the thirtieth of January as I'm writing this. I would have written sooner, but the Ministry is keeping a close watch on the Weasley family; intercepting our owls and the like. Herold arrived at the house a few days ago, looking quite distraught. I sent him off to Lacey's parents' house first, and I'll be sending him off tonight in search of you. (I send him at night so that he's hard to track. Not to mention the Ministry doesn't recognize him. Mr. Weasley says it should be safe).

'To Fred, George and Lee: I really wish you three would stop your radio broadcasts. It's not safe, and it would be incredibly easy for Death Eaters to find you if they cracked the password.

'To Lee: I haven’t heard anything about your parents, but I'm sure they're fine. They're strong people, if I remember correctly. I'll write again if I do hear anything.

'To Fred and George: You boys better be behaving yourselves. No ridiculous attempts at heroism, I hope. I'd hate to see what your hair looks like now,' "

They grinned at each other. Their hair was, in fact, long and untidy, hanging almost down to their shoulders. It was a good look for them, I thought, but their mother would've been after them with her scissors in a heartbeat. Fred continued.

"'Please come home safe to your father and I. That's all I ask.

'To Lacey: I hope you're holding up well, dear. Like I mentioned, I've owled your family, explaining the situation to them. They wrote back, saying that they understood and hoped that you were well. They await a letter from you personally, they say. I do hope those boys aren't being too troublesome for you. Whether they admit it or not, they need you very much. Since I can't be there myself, it's a comfort to know that you're there instead.' "

I blushed profusely and the Twins snorted with laughter. "Oh, get on with it," I snapped, tilting my head forward so that my hair hid my face. Fred continued, his voice shaking a bit with his leftover laughter.

"'I'd better quit this letter soon, we don't want Herold weighted down with an entire novel, I'd presume.

'Please take care of each other. Keep each other safe. I would tell you to visit home, but we aren't there and since there is a chance Herold might be intercepted, it wouldn’t be wise of me to tell you where we are.

'We love you (all of you), Mum, Molly.' "

There was no laughter when he finished reading. Lee slept quietly. I sat with my elbows on my knees and my chin in my hands, focusing on the weathered floorboards. Fred stared down at his mother's writing, George gazed out the window. Home sounded so far away.

We'd missed Christmas after all, despite Fred's valiant attempt not to. It was sometime in February. The time had slipped by without notice, and the only time we had news was when Remus or Kingsley came to assist with the radio broadcasts, or when we found a bit in the Prophet that wasn't complete rubbish (rare, unfortunately).

Lee woke up a little while later and we set about doing nothing. Day after day, week after week passed, and we tried to keep track of the date. Based on the notches on the doorframe we'd started making with each passing day and the date of Mrs. Weasley's letter, it was somewhere around the twentieth of March when Remus and Kingsley arrived outside the door.

I was boiling rice in a pan that we'd somehow managed to obtain when there was a single, loud knock. Lee, the Twins and I stopped what we were doing and stared at each other, hands reaching instinctively for our wands.

Then came Lupin's voice from the other side of the door, "It is I, Remus John Lupin, husband of Nymphadora Tonks, former Defense Against the Dark Arts professor at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. I was at the Burrow for last Christmas. Lacey James received several pairs of striped socks from Fred Weasley. With me is Kingsley Shacklebolt, member of the Order of – "

"Alright, Remus, we know it's you." George said, standing to open the door.

"That was unwise, George," Lupin said, moving into the cabin with a frown on his face. Kingsley was a step behind him, also frowning. "Someone could've tortured me for that information."

"And that's how we know for sure it's you," Fred grinned, "Only the real you would suggest the possibility that you were an imposter. Not to mention, no one would ask about Lacey's socks."

"Hello, Kingsley." Lee called.

"Hello, Lee." He replied.

"Are you boys hungry?" I asked, turning halfway with my wooden spoon still in the pot, "We've got quite a feast, today. White rice with a bit of butter and salt." I grinned.

"We're not, thank you," Lupin said, "But we figured you all would be."

From beneath his cloak, he drew a large basket. He pulled back the handkerchief that was draped over the opening and began lifting items out, arranging them on the only table in the house. There were loaves of bread, jars of stew, bottles of butterbeer, legs of chicken wrapped in wax paper, and a few pies. I stared openly.

"Undetectable Extension Charm," Lupin winked. The boys howled in delight and threw themselves at the food. I, on the other hand, turned off the wood stove I was using first, then dashed over to help myself to some stew.

"So," Fred began, then tore into a chicken leg (he seems to have a bad habit of talking with his mouth full), "Wha's go ninnon ou' der?" he motioned with his arm out the window.

Lupin sipped his butterbeer and looked quite grave. The rest of us stopped eating and waited anxiously for the bad news.

"Tonks' father was murdered. So was Dirk Cresswell and a Goblin they were traveling with," He shook his head sadly, "Bathilda Bagshot's body was discovered in Godric's Hollow…" He went on for a long time with updates from the last few weeks. We listened intently, then Fred, George, and Lee retrieved their radio equipment.

The food was cleared aside, and the radio was set up in its place. The Twins and Lee lifted microphones to their mouths and Lupin pointed his wand at the dial. It lit up and Lee began speaking.

He apologized for our long absence, then dove into the news. He reported all the new deaths and called for a moment of silence. None of us moved, locked in thoughts of those who were already dead and those who would be next. Things were so uncertain, I didn’t like to dwell on it.

The broadcast continued with news delivered from Fred (under the alias "Rapier" because he had refused "Rodent"), and ended with Lee's encouragement to 'keep the faith'. Lupin flicked his wand again and the dial went dark.

We sat together in the dim light of candles and lanterns, staring at each other with sad eyes. Things were getting out of hand, and it wouldn’t be long, now, until we had to make the final stand.