Look After You

It took the Twins and me nearly three-and-a-half hours to explain everything to my Mum and Dad. The five of us sat around the kitchen table until early evening, discussing the circumstances of my visit and, ultimately, the possibility that I might never come home again.

They took it surprisingly well, actually.

"I'm not sure I'll be able to come visit again," I said, "Not until it's all over, at least…" My voice trailed off.

"Well," My dad said, "It's noble of you to come forward with your wand drawn," He beamed, obviously pleased with his throwback to Wizard culture, "And we will support you in whatever decisions you make in regard to this, er, Lord Voltenmard."

"But you still need to take care of yourself," Mum said nervously, searching my face with her eyes, "Don't go looking for trouble."

"I won't," I assured her halfheartedly. She had clearly missed the whole 'rebellion' idea, because otherwise, she would have known that half the point of being a rebel is going out to look for trouble. I wasn't going to remind her, though.

At around six o'clock, I hugged my parents goodbye and joined hands with Fred and George to disapparate back to the Burrow. The usual protective charms were cast around the property (I figured Harry must have still been there), so we arrived in that field again. The Twins didn’t let go of my hands right away, probably because they noticed the few tears running down my cheeks. The idea of never seeing my mum and dad again had curled like a fist into the pit of my stomach. I didn't try to pull away from Fred and George. They felt like home, and I couldn’t think of anything I wanted more.

We approached the house, and someone's silhouette appeared in the half-open kitchen doorway. I couldn’t make out who it was until they spoke.

"Stop where you are." Lupin's voice called out to us.

"It's us, Remus." Fred said, and I could almost hear his eyes rolling in his head.

"Fred, how did you get the scar on your eyebrow? George, who did you and Fred play your first prank on? Lacey, what form does your Patronus take?"

"George misfired a spell in Defense Against the Dark Arts third year."

"Ron."

"A Cattle Egret."

The silhouette of Lupin lowered its wand and turned away from the door, yelling something that sound suspiciously like "They're back, Molly". I felt Fred and George wince.

We were hardly through the kitchen door when Mrs. Weasley came barreling in from the living room. I'd never before seen a face so full of rage. I immediately regretted having left at all.

"Where have you been?!" She bellowed, aiming several slaps at Fred and George's heads and necks. I shied away, narrowly avoiding her blows. The Twins barely flinched. She stopped attacking them and stood with her hands on her hips, clearly demanding an answer.

"We went with Lacey to explain everything to her parents, Mum." George said calmly.

"We told Ginny to tell you where we were going." Fred added.

"Do you have any idea how dangerous it is to be in the Muggle world, right now? Do you?" She stared at her sons imploringly.

"Sorry, Mum." The two of them said in unison.

Suddenly, the rage vanished from Mrs. Weasley's face. She pulled Fred and George into her arms and hugged them tightly.

"I just ask that you take care of yourselves." She said softly, holding them at arms length and staring into their faces, "You, too, Lacey, dear." I nodded once.

She told us to sit down and eat something. Everyone else in the house filtered in, as well, each person sitting on any available flat surface in the room. Remus was there, of course. So were Tonks, Harry, Kingsley, Bill, Charlie, Fleur, Ron, Ginny, Hermione, Mad-Eye, and 'Dung Fletcher. Mrs. Weasley magicked seventeen mismatched bowls out of the cupboard, then filled them each with the soup that had been simmering over the fire. Everyone settled down into a steady pattern of eating, and all was quiet for a while.

When everyone had finished, several discussions broke out at various parts of the table, none of which interested me, much. The Twins and I stood to leave, making our way out of the kitchen and upstairs into their old bedroom.

I flopped down across George's bed and kicked off my shoes. George sat on the edge of the mattress near my knees. Fred lay on his back on his own bed across the room. None of us said anything for a while. The quiet was only partial; voices still floated up from the kitchen in a constant, dull stream. I pulled George's pillow over my head, stuffing fistfuls of it into my ears.

"This whole situation is bloody scary." I said, my voice muffled by the bedcovers.

"You're finally talking some sense." Fred said.

I took the pillow off my head long enough to shoot him a glare. He shrugged and grinned apologetically, "Well, now you understand that it's not all about 'Go, Fight, Win'. We're at a serious disadvantage, here. It's possible that some of the people that were here today won't live through the year." He looked sad for a moment, then shook his head.

"I understand that we're out-numbered and out-skilled and what have you. But there's got to be something we have that You-Know-Who doesn’t. Until I figure out what it is, I'll be a nervous wreck," I thought for a moment and added in an undertone, "I'd like to see my twentieth birthday."

"Will you two shut up?" George said suddenly. In the fading light, I saw his eyes go wide, "Stop talking like you're both going to die. Bloody hell, it's depressing." He sprawled back across the space on his bed I wasn't occupying. My heart spluttered.

It was quiet again for a little while, then I said, "I hope everything works out. I hope Harry gets rid of You-Know-Who and I hope it happens soon."

Fred and George were silent, and I thought I was going to get yelled at again for being negative, but then they both said in hushed voices, "Me, too."



The summer of 1997 was spent planning things. Honestly. Some were of more importance than others, but if you ever mentioned your opinion on the subject, you were bound to get a few dirty looks or random bouts of physical violence. It happened to me a few times.

I prioritized my summer as follows: first and foremost, my very first assignment from the Order. (We were going to move Harry from his Muggle Aunt and Uncle's house – undercover, of course – to the Burrow at the end of July). My second priority, Lupin and Tonks' wedding (sometime in the beginning of July). Third and final priority, Bill and Fleur's wedding. This was the opinion I kept most quiet; Fleur could get quite nasty when offended.

And, honestly, it wasn't that I wasn't happy for her and Bill. Quite the opposite, actually, I couldn’t have been more thrilled. It was just all the damn work Mrs. Weasley had us doing whenever we visited the Burrow (which, incidentally, became less and less frequently as the happy date grew nearer).

Lupin and Tonks got married outside in a large, festooned tent. It was a simple ceremony, there wasn’t much celebrating afterward. But everyone was so excited that the two of them were finally together, it didn't even matter. We all left, quite satisfied, before the sun had even set.

Fred, George, and I worked different shifts at Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes throughout June and July so that someone would always be present at the Order meetings, where Mad-Eye presided over the plan-laying for Operation Potter-Mobilization.

It was the twenty-sixth of July, the night before the operation, when we closed the shop indefinitely and disapparated to the Burrow. Walking into a packed kitchen upon arriving at the Burrow was common happenstance, those days. Order members were everywhere, trying to hammer out the final details of our mission.

I lay in bed that night beside George (which really didn’t mean anything. We'd both been lying there talking to Fred when the two of them fell asleep, and I didn’t have a bedroll to move to. Not that I minded, George was warm and smelled nice, and he breathed like a baby when he slept). I mulled things over. Moody had seemed convinced that we would be ambushed upon leaving the Muggles' house. He warned us that we might all be in mortal peril. I wasn’t sure whether I should believe him or not. Moody had a tendency to over-react and proclaim "mortal peril" over any shadow or loud noise. All the same, the man had escaped death an innumerable amount of times, and I figured I might want to trust him just based on said information.

I didn’t sleep that night.

The following afternoon, we set out on brooms and Thestrals (provided by none other than Rubeus Hagrid, himself) for Harry's family's home in Little Winging. The air was warm, so flying was pleasant. I watched the webwork of lights and city blocks as I flew between Fred and George. Within an hour or two, we landed with several muffled thuds in the back yard of a well-kept condominium.

Mad-Eye and Lupin led the way through the kitchen door, and there was Harry, beaming as he caught sight of us all. It was a proper chance for me to look around as well, as I'd been too distracted fearing for my life to really observe who had made the trip with me. There were Fred, George, Mad-Eye and Lupin, of course. Then I saw Tonks and Hermione, Ron, Bill, Kingsley, 'Dung, and Mr. Weasley, myself, and Hagrid.

Moody told Harry the plan, and Harry protested. We were all supposed to disguise ourselves using Harry's hair and a bit of Polyjuice Potion. Harry flat-out refused, saying things about how we shouldn’t be risking our lives for him and that the plan was too dangerous.

"If you think I'm going to let six people risk their lives – !" He said, his voice nearly a yell.

" – because it's the first time for all of us," Ron said sarcastically. I stifled a chuckle.

"This is different, pretending to be me –" Harry argued.

"Well," Fred spoke up, grinning, "None of us really fancy it. Imagine if something went wrong and we were stuck as specky, scrawny gits forever."

"You can't do it if I don't cooperate, you need me to give you some hair." Harry crossed his arms over his chest childishly.

"Well, that's that plan scuppered," George rolled his eyes, "Obviously there's no chance at all of us getting a bit of your hair unless you cooperate."

"Yeah, thirteen of us against one bloke who's not allowed to use magic; we've got no chance." Fred grinned even wider.

No scuffle ensued because Harry finally gave in, pulling out small tufts of hair with tiny winces. Moody produced a large flagon of polyjuice potion and dropped the hairs in. It turned a pale gold, then Moody dished it out. I found Harry standing next to me, watching the happenings with a look of utmost distaste.

"Oh, stuff it, Harry." I said cheerfully, catching my tiny glass of the potion as it soared through the air toward me.

"Lacey!" He rounded in astonishment, having obviously not noticed me standing there. "Not you, too!" He scowled.

"Of course me, too! Stop your bitching. We'll all be fine." I tossed back the Essence of Harry with a shudder and watched my skin begin to bubble and remold itself over my newly-shaped bones. "Wicked," I muttered, looking at myself in the reflection of the microwave.

"No, it's not." Harry grumbled.

Fred and George sidled over, only they weren't Fred and George anymore. They were two identical Harry's, and they were grinning. One of them threw his arm around my shoulders and the other threw one of his around my waist.

"We really are triplets now, Lacey. Brilliant, isn't it?" It was George's voice. He was the one with the arm around my waist.

There was much jostling as we all swapped our ill fitting robes for some that Moody had brought in a large sack. I snatched a pair of glasses and put them on, then trooped outside with everyone else. Mad-Eye and Lupin rattled off the list of pairs (I was riding a Thestral with Bill), and we all mounted, waiting for some sort of signal to kick off.

Bill cupped his hands together so that I could step into them and mount the bony back of the Thestral that I couldn’t actually see. I only knew it was bony because the damn thing was so uncomfortable. Bill settled himself behind me with a light, friendly hand on my waist.

"I wouldn't let Fleur come," he said lightly, though I could tell he was nervous, "Just on the off-chance we're ambushed. She's at home with Mum and Ginny."

"You're a good husband for that, Bill." I patted his hand with one of my own pale and shaking ones.

"Ooh, George is glaring daggers at me right now." He chuckled, "I don't think he likes me touching you."

"Oh, he's just being a prat." I said and felt myself blush.

"You know, I must ask you what your intentions are with my brother."

"Full frontal snogging in broom cupboards, mostly," I said, shrugging nonchalantly, "And certain other things that I would not mention in such mixed company." I grinned over my shoulder at him. He laughed heartily.

Over several bouts of lighthearted chatter, I heard Moody calling, "Good luck, everyone. See you all in about an hour at the Burrow. On the count of three." The talk died down and Moody said, "One…two…three!"

Bill and I rose quite fast, which was eerie because I could see straight to the ground below me, like I was floating on nothing more substantial than air. Bill's grasp on my waist tightened as we rose higher, surpassing the rooftops and tree lines of the neighborhood. Suddenly, out of nowhere, there were curses flying. Bill swore and started shouting jinxes. I stared around stupidly for a moment.

Hooded figures were everywhere, and I could see their silver Death Eater masks glinting in the faint moonlight. I grappled in my pocket for my wand and drew it out, gazing around for a clear target. Order members were so intermingled with Death Eaters, in the darkness it was sort of hard to tell who was who.

Our Thestral lurched forward, I could feel the draft from its wings, and we were off, tailed closely by three Death Eaters.

"Stupefy!" I cried, reaching my wand around Bill, narrowly missing the right-most cloaked figure. Another one soared up to my left. I saw his skeleton-faced mask leering through the darkness, and without thinking, I screamed "Crucio!". The curse hit him in the chest. I heard him howl in pain, then drop out of sight.

"Well done, Miss Lacey!" Bill yelled jubilantly in my ear, still casting his own curses about.

"And you," I replied, watching him curse the Death Eater to our right out of the sky with a full body-bind.

He got the last hooded man with his own Cruciatus Curse, and I noticed Mad-Eye, flying not too far ahead of us. I couldn’t see any lights below us and the moon was behind clouds. The darkness made it impossible to tell the difference between a Death Eater and Moody's billowing travel-cloak. I heard a very faint pop, and Moody's growl, "MUNDUNGUS!".

"Lean to the right, Lacey! We've got to get over there!" Bill shouted.

I did, and our Thestral adjusted its course, flying instead in the direction of the jets of red and green light. Bill began shouting curses, waving his wand madly at the Death Eaters trailing Moody. I still couldn’t see clearly enough to trust myself with wandwork. I concentrated on clinging to the Thestral so that Bill would have something stable to hold on to while he dueled.

In a great blur of sound and movement, I heard someone that was definitely not Moody scream "AVADA KEDAVRA". There was a blinding flash of green light and someone in a billowy, black traveling cloak tumbled off their broom and disappeared into the darkness below. Before my very eyes, the Thestral materialized beneath me, all leathery skin and bones like everyone always said. But I couldn't be bothered with it right then.

"No!" I screamed, "Mad-Eye!" I tried to lean my weight forward, urging the Thestral into a downward dive. The animal didn't budge.

The remaining Death Eaters disappeared, doubling back and soaring in the direction we'd just come from.

"It's too late, Lacey." Bill muttered, pulling on my waist gently, forcing me to sit up straight. "He's gone."

I was silent for a long time, enraged and bewildered. Moody, gone? Another great wizard, one who had always seemed so completely impervious and invincible, gone. Dead. I'm not sure I even blinked.

I finally stirred upon realizing how cold the air had become. I glanced around, looking for a cluster of lights that would identify a town or street or something. All I could see was black; solid and disconcerting.

"Where are we, d'you think?" I asked over my shoulder.

"Dunno," Bill replied, and I could feel his shoulders twist behind me as he gazed around.

"I hope everyone else is alright." I said, the wind stealing the words from my mouth and casting them out of earshot. The image of Mad-Eye falling from his broom and being swallowed by the dark replayed in my head, and I closed my eyes in a desperate attempt to keep it out.