Ok, kids here we go. Happy Birthday, Hermione. Thanks as usual to Lady Starlight for her work on this chapter, it is appreciated.
Chapter 34: An Unforeseen Loss
**************************Diagon Alley***********************************
February 23, 2016
10:45 am
Hermione appeared on the flat roof of Gringotts silently and walked towards the ghostly cloaked figure standing at the edge of the roof, mostly behind a oddly shaped parapet, that gave the impression of many sharp teeth. She vanished mid-stride, disappearing into invisibility just like the other occupant, that only she could see.
How are we doing?
Harry glanced over at her, and then back out over the expanse of Diagon Alley. A large crowd was gathered around the front of a marble-faced building, across from Gringotts and down a pair of blocks. They faced a large, raised stage set in front of it, under a large, animated banner proclaiming the opening of St. Seiya's Clinic for Extra-Human Medicine.
The new, small hospital was just a tiny fraction of the enormous one across town, but unlike St. Mungo's, it was designed to treat all of the magical races. From water tanks for Merpeople, to miniscule beds for injured House Elves, the new clinic was equipped to handle their medical needs, and for free, as many of them could not pay the fees of the main medical hospital.
The Foundation for Interspecies Tolerance, a non-profit organization with mysterious origins, had raised several million galleons for this enterprise, mostly through the donations of several large contributors, Weasleys' Wizarding Enterprises among the most notable, along with a few, large, private contributions.
A few hundred meters away from the stage, which was surrounded by dozens of reporters, Harry lifted a set of issue Omniocculars to his eyes and scanned the crowd beyond, finding witches, wizards, a few dozen pre-Hogwarts age children, and a few owls scattered beyond that. A small delegation of centaurs was looking to each side, nervously, while a pair of House Elves, mounted the stage, waving to the crowd as if they were rock stars.
Alright, Harry replied, handing her the Omniocculars, without looking over, Tonks and Baker have the close watch on the stage. Hermione nodded silently as she glassed over a tall, brown-haired woman who looked nothing like Tonks, and a short, stout man with a perpetual scowl. The pair stood back and to each side of a currently empty podium, as the house elves, a roan-colored centaur, and a merman in a large, clear tank took positions to each side. The other two main prospective customers of the clinic, Lycans and Vampires, were at a slight disadvantage as the ribbon cutting was both in the middle of the day, and the day after a full moon.
Even Remus Lupin, who had mastered his transformation years ago, was only moderately functional at best, and so had been left behind at the Ministry.
Hermione glanced over as a double crack carried to her ears, and Arthur and Molly appeared next to the stage. Hermione frowned slightly, and an annoyed look fell over her eyes, as Molly followed Arthur up the short stairs to the stage.
Harry glanced over to receive a small shrug, before Hermione continued to look about. Do you want to get lunch after this, before we head back? Harry asked idly as his eyes and other senses continued to scan the crowd. A brief flicker of, something drew his gaze towards the crowd of reporters next to the stage, and he sighed as Rita looked around, her dyed bright golden curls visible even at this distance.
Sure, Hermione replied, as Arthur finished shaking the hand of the pair of house elves, both of whom looked as if they were about to suffer fits of apoplexy at the thought that the Minister of Magic had touched them. How about that new Italian place down at the other end to of the Alley, across from the Twins'?
Harry nodded, and let his magic reach out, to hear Arthur's words as he took the podium.
"Today," Arthur said, smiling and waving back at the building behind him, "We dedicate a new facility to the needs of our magical brethren who have been ignored for so very long because of our own short-sighted views. This new clinic, which will provide desperately needed care for the races that are not easily treated at St. Mungo's will be the first of what should be many, spread throughout Britannia." He paused and looked back at the thick, gold ribbon wavering slowly in a faint breeze, and back to the crowd.
"It is only through the dedication of the Foundation for Interspecies Tolerance, and many dedicated contributors, and volunteers, that we are able to open this facility today. Please join me in a round of applause." Arthur led a moderate applause for a few minutes, and nodded as it slowly died away. "But for now, let us get to what we are here to do." Arthur turned, and drew his wand with a flourish. "Diffindo!"
The ribbon fell away in two glittering pieces to more applause as Arthur slid his wand back into an inner pocket of his robe as he regripped the podium. "Now, as my aide promised earlier, I will take a ffew questions." He sighed as a bejeweled hand lifted, "Yes, Rita."
She smiled, the expression one that would be more at home on a shark than anything, "Is it true, Minister, that the Ministry is abandoning the investigation of the attack on the Hogwarts Express to prevent criminal action against Abigail and Xander Lupin? Abigail has been implicated in attacks against other children, is it true she is feral at best..."
The tall, brown-haired woman stiffened imperceptively, as Arthur glared at Rita, cutting her off even as Tonks took a drifting half-step forward, "Rita," Arthur said coldly, "that is uncalled for and outlandish, even from you. Next question."
A wizard in a top hat and a purple cloak raised his hand, even as Rita tried to shout out another. "Andrew Gilson, Quibbler Today....Sir, though it is obvious that the children had nothing to do with it...can you give the public an update on the status of the investigation?"
A silver jet outraced the hiss-crack of its passage, and Tonks spun to the ground as a spray of red splashed up, dousing Molly, who was next to her on the stage. Screams filled the air as the crowd's rough cohesiveness, suddenly collapsed in a mad rush to escape. Harry glanced over to Hermione and vanished, following the loud crack of an apparation three buildings over. Hermione followed, her heart in her throat, even as cries of "SHOOTER," and "AUROR DOWN" filled the ether, courtesy of the earbud in her ear.
Her wand tracked across the empty rooftop that her and Harry had jumped to, following the backtrack of the curse that had dropped Tonks. She shook her head and ran to the edge of the roof, to look down as the crowd milled in every direction, every person moving away from the stage as quickly as they could...save one.
Rita smiled darkly, and lifted her wand. A silver bolt snapped across the stage, just as Molly spun to her husband, taking a step around Tonks as medics rushed to tend to her.
She collapsed with a soft sigh, her eyes rolling up in her head as a neat, charred hole appeared in the blue fabric of her dress, just left of center, even as Hermione's Disarming Charm shattered her attacker's wand and hand. A half-dozen blue bolts hit her killer, blowing the reporter into charred chunks, but far too late, even though at best a pair of seconds had passed.
Hermione vanished and reappeared next to Arthur, grabbing him and pulling him bodily off the stage, fighting his cries and struggles as he fought to move to his wife's side. Harry appeared on the stage and slashed his wand down, throwing up a seemingly solid barrier that blocked even the daylight from passing. He pushed past Tonks, noting in an oddly-detached fashion, the perfection of the shot that had taken her out of play. It had slipped in through a gap in her dragonhide vest, to slice a hole in her shoulder.
A glance at the Auror medic kneeling next to Molly gained only a slow shake of her head, and a cold, heavy feeling in Harry's gut.
Harry felt Hermione vanish along with Arthur and three or four of the other Aurors as another ten appeared, called from everywhere. A pulse of magic snapped out at his call, staggering everyone in a hundred foot radius, and he paused for a beat, reading the returns.
Satisfied that the threat had passed, he knelt next to the giblets that had once been a rather annoying reporter and
waved his wand over the corpse. Frowning, he waved it again, "Bloody fuck," Harry muttered feelingly, taking
a staggering step back as the spell impressions of polyjuice and the Imperius appeared in response to the Forensic
Charm. He looked up as Wendel appeared with a soft POP and knelt next to him, his team appearing behind him, right
behind the response team that had sortied to the Alley at the first cries of an attack.
"Harry-"
"Shut it down...shut the whole, fucking place down," he growled lowly, and at least twenty Aurors, rushed out into the crowd, casting anti-Apparation charms, and shouting for people to stop, even though everyone know that it was already too late.
Far away, at the very edge of the alley, a cloaked figure slid a wand back inside its sleeve and spun in place, vanishing silently.
*******************************Hogwarts, Great Hall***********************
11: 45 am
The Great Hall, as it was most days at this time, was filled with the clank of utensils against plates, the thump of goblets onto eighteen-year-old house tables, and the murmured voices of several hundred conversations. The head table was empty, with Albus Dumbledore visiting an old friend, not long for this adventure, a happenstance that occurred more and more these days, Minerva McGonagall somewhere in the Transfiguration wing working on a project and most all of the other professors absent as well.
In fact, the only staff member actually there was eating in the midst of his house.
Neville Longbottom, the wizard whose own family had pushed him out windows in a desperate attempt to bring forth his magic, who had once been the laughing stock of the school in many ways, had become in his maturity one of the most popular Heads of Gryffindor in the school's long history. He laughed at some joke that Virginia told from across the table, as she sat next to Kris, whose face held a small, happy smile as she leaned against the redhead.
Neville looked down at his Shepard's pie to hide the rolling of his eyes as the pair made moon eyes at each other. He glanced up and to his right to find the rest of the Potter/Weasley/Black clan shouting back and forth across the table at each other. He shook his head as Emilia flicked her fingers and a whole chicken rose on its legs and started marching across the table towards her brother as he laughed at something.
Neville narrowed his eyes and sighed heavily as she turned her head, just right, for the sunlight coming in from a high window to catch the cat whiskers that had sprouted under Emilia's nose. He watched as Harriet's hand flashed down and enchanted a line of goblets to form a barrier between her boyfriend, and Emilia's avenging squadron of roasted chickens.
Watching as Emilia's lead chicken knocked over a Goblet, Neville let his gaze flicker over, past Xander to the tiny, currently black and red-haired girl sitting next to him, looking hungrily at the chickens. Neville had known both of the Lupins since moments after they were born; his wife had actually delivered Abby at St. Mungo's when the Obstetrician on call had refused to deal with a 'feral'.
That healer had lasted all of two more days at the hospital before he was fired, learning too late that the odd witch carrying a "hellspawn" was actually, variously, one of the Ministry's top four agents, the wife of the Chief Auror, and the 'big sister' of the slayers of Voldemort.
Neville was silent as he watched the small girl, young woman, really, reach forward and take one of the chickens from the field of battle with a large fork. She gave her Head of House a huge grin before she ribbed the chicken in half with her fork and a large knife and started to pick the meat off the bones with her fork. Neville watched Abigail eat with her left hand, the silver of the ring there glinting, with a hunger that more than confirmed that the full moon had just past.
"Oi, Dad," Elliot called as he past behind him before stopping behind Abigail.
She smiled and leaned her head back, to receive a kiss that Elliot probably should have taken points for, before the younger Longbottom sat next to her opposite Xander, who gave him a nod, before returning to watching his mate's vengeance for her whiskers. Abigail glanced over at Neville, as if checking, before she rested her head on Elliot's shoulder with a sigh and continued eating, at a reduced rate, as if his mere presence had been sufficient to assuage her hunger.
Neville sighed and looked back to his meal, just as Emilia's chickens managed to defeat Sirius' walls to capture his plate. Neville took a bite, musing on if he should even bother to pretend that Abigail, the now fifteen-year-old, who was probably his daughter in about three years, was not going to be sleeping in Elliot's room at Longbottom Manor most of the summer.
He was weighing even having Simmy prepare Abigail's room, even knowing what he would probably hear from his mother on the subject, who occupied the opposite wing from the once where he and Parvati, along with Elliot, had their rooms, when the flapping of wings drew his gaze upward. He frowned as a single owl slipped in the windows high above and started to circle.
The fork in his hand rattled to the table in the next moment as the owl dived out of the bright sun, and he saw that it was not brown-but black as night. It circled about the Gryffindor table as the conversations in the hall slowly died, before it fluttered down to a stop in front of Andrew.
The senior Weasley there swallowed and reached forward with trembling hands, pushing aside his books and notes for his Transfiguration exam later that week. He plucked the small parchment from its leg, and slowly read it, before refolding it and slipping into the inner pocket of his robe.
"It's Grandmum," Andrew said, his voice soft and vaguely trembling. "There was an attack on Diagon Alley...She's dead."
*******************************Gryffindor Tower**************************
February 24, 2016
1:00 am
Xander looked up from the book in his lap that he was not reading by the soft white light of his wand, as the curtains to his bed moved, parting just enough to let Emilia's pajama-clad body to slip in. "How are they doing, Em?"
She shook her head, and wiped bitterly at tears that were pooling in the corner of her eyes before she kneeled in front of him on the bed, and slowly reached up to cup his cheek. Emilia swallowed once, as if to clear a frog in her throat before she started to stoke the ball of his cheek with her thumb, "Kris has Virginia calmed down, I tucked them in before I came up," she whispered, "Lawrence is being brave and working on homework, while Andrew is sitting up with Abby and Elliot in the Common Room. Elliot said he would get him to bed when he finally passed out."
Shrugging she glanced down, "I can feel Harriet with Sirius right now, so she's alright. And Bob, if you can't tell, is snoring to your left," she added with the faint trace of humor that she had left to her. "How's...your, Mum?" she asked, letting her hand drop to his lap and take his.
"Pissed off, sick, but she'll be alright, the Piercing Charm was a through and through, she'll be able to reform her shoulder now that they have her blood replenished, as soon as she can get enough protein in."
Nodding, Emilia looked at the partially opened curtains, and waved her hand at them, closing them fully. A soft, white flash lit them as privacy charms took hold, and she looked back to Xander. I need you tonight, Xander...really...please...
He nodded, his nose flaring unconsciously as her scent filled his nose, Let me get my stuff, we can...
No, Emilia said quickly, no...she peeled out of the battered sweatshirt she had slipped on after a too-long shower, and just as quickly, pushed her sweatpants down and with a quick shimmy, off, leaving her nude before him. She pushed the clothes off the bed to fall on the floor outside of the coverings, before rising on her knees to kiss him, pushing him back against his headboard.
Her fingers trailed down until they found the edge of his shirt, twisted in it and pulled it off with one hurried motion. Emilia's lips were on his a heartbeat later, almost desperately, as she flicked her tongue until he opened his mouth to hers with a faint growl. What about...
They already know, and I don't care, Emilia replied, pulling back to meet his gaze until he nodded quickly, even as his eyes grew dark.
A floor below, or rather two, as the tower had decided to alternate boy, girl floors sometime last night, Sirius looked
across the room towards his bed. He met Harriet's faintly glittering eyes as she huddled under a blanket, from his
seat on one of the window sills overlooking the grounds and a corner of the Quidditch pitch.
She held up the blanket as he walked back over to her, and slipped under the covers next to her.
Waiting as Harriet made herself comfortable, which involved wrapping her body around his until her heart was separated from his only by the faded fabric of a pair of sweatshirts, Sirius looked around the room quickly. Lawrence nodded at him from his bed. "You alright?" Sirius asked as Harriet rolled even more on her belly and pushed his knees apart with one of hers.
"I'm fine," he replied, his face stoic as he sat up in his bed on top of the covers, his Defense text open and in his lap, with notes beside him, "Go to sleep," Lawrence sighed...I'm going to go sit in the common room. Work on Uncle Ron's exam for Friday."
Sirius nodded mutely as Lawrence grabbed his wand from his bedside table, tossed the books and notes into his leather knapsack that he retrieved from the floor next to the bed and walked out of the room without another word. Sirius did not bother to mention his belief that he rather doubted that there would be class in at least Defense for the remainder of the week. As the Professor, along with a good portion of the Gryffindor and Ravenclaw houses would be gone to a small glade near Ottery St. Catchpole. The door closed quietly behind Lawrence and Sirius slid down the bed until he was lying flat on it.
Harriet mumbled something that included his name, and wrapped herself around him even closer, and started to shake again. Sirius stroked her hair, watching as the red strands, whose dozens of ruby shades he knew as well as the number of fingers on his hand, tumbled through those selfsame fingers. Waiting as he let mind tumble through the myriad of thoughts he could almost hear dancing along the surface.
"I...I should have seen it," Harriet whispered darkly, her eyes staring past his shoulder at the dark grey stones of the tower walls. Vaguely, she could see the dance of countless magics along the fabric of the school, a vision that normally would bring a smile to her face as she watched the colors swirl. Tonight, she just felt sick and closed her eyes, burrowing into the one she trusted more than anyone, even her parents. "I was mad at her...she wanted to take me from you..."
"It's not your fault, Harriet."
"I didn't want her to die," Harriet whispered, tears dampening his shoulder as she trembled like a leaf caught in a gale. "Did I? Was it because I..."
Sirius swallowed heavily, and pressed his lips to the part in her hair for a long minute, even as he forced down the reaction to her, as her bare leg moved between his absently, though an act of sheer will. "No, Harriet, you never could do that," he whispered, trying desperately to remember the embarrassed conversation he had found himself in with both his mother and Luna over the Christmas Holidays. Neither of his-mothers-had doubted his devotion to Harriet, but both had also bemoaned the utter lack of proper education about true, human seers, at Hogwarts.
"You know it doesn't always work like that, Love," Sirius replied, "it wasn't like you went in a trance...and you didn't know to look."
She sniffed, "I look around you...sometimes...I don't want to miss something and you get hurt...I can't lose you, Sirius...please..." Harriet pressed harder into him, and she looked up into his face slowly as she felt him loose the battle with his other brain. A fresh sniff came from her throat, as she reached down under the blanket and grabbed the hem of his sweatshirt.
"Wh...what are you going?"
"I don't want to wait," Harriet whispered, "I'll take the chance for you..." she let go of him and reached down under her own sweatshirt, one that she had stolen from his trunk an hour or so ago in lieu of pajamas, and slipped her thumbs into the waistband of her knickers. Which was the only thing she wore below her waist. She started to slip them down, only to be stopped as two larger hands cupped hers and slowly drew them out, before lacing their fingers together. "D...don't you w...want to...." she stammered quietly, her lower lip vibrating.
Sirius leaned forward and kissed her, before slowly letting go of her hands to rest his together at the small of her back. He felt the vague tingle of the temporary tattoo that Harriet had spelled there of a lion cub the night before last under his fingers, and started to trace his fingers in circles. The cub bounded after them around her back, as Sirius fought his hormones down. "More than you can imagine," he whispered, "but I'm not risking you, not risking us, for that."
"I'm sorry," she whispered, "I didn't..."
He rocked her against his shoulder; "It won't be that much longer, Harriet, I promise...you already have my soul...you just have to wait another month or so for the incredible body that goes with it. A teary giggle greeted his half-jest and he pulled her chin up until he could kiss her again.
*****************************Ministry of Magic***************************
2:15 am
Harry Potter had watched entirely too many people in his life suffer under the cruel malaise of bereavement. He had watched as thousands mourned Albus, even though he later proved alive. He had stood in silence as Marge bawled at him, years after the fact, for a man who had deserved no mourners, had had received them anyway. He had held his wife as she shook in his arms, as his first magical friend, first friend really, was set alight on a pyre the size of a bonfire; one eminently suitable for a man of his stature-and size.
The Ministry of Magic was alive at this late hour, in reaction to events that had unfolded a few miles away, on the backside of Soho. He looked out through the open door of his office as Aurors rushed by, or dropped off hurried reports that told him absolutely nothing.
Harry glanced to his right as Hermione appeared silently, with a small duffle tossed over one shoulder. She waved towards the door as she tossed the bag down on his desk causing it to close and lock with a soft whoosh. "Here, Harry," she said tiredly as she walked over to the comfortable couch in their office and dropped onto it. She reached up and back to tie back hair still damp from the shower as she watched Harry pick up the bag of clothes, and dig into it.
You could go get some sleep, Harry, she said as she watched him change his shirt, finally switching the one that had still been covered in soot and the psychic residue of death and destruction.
He shrugged and changed from the dress slacks he had been wearing to a pair of worn jeans, No I couldn't. He stepped around the desk as he finished fastening his jeans and dropped on the couch next to her. He stared at his hands, keeping his gaze down as she pulled him into her shoulder and started to play with his hair.
Harry sighed quietly, letting her nails scratch his scalp, and closed his eyes. He took a breath as the events of yesterday morning flitted by, and let them fall open again. Holding up his hand, he caught a thin folder as it shot over to him, We got something from the night desk at the Quibbler right after you left. The Prophet got the same thing, though they weren't as forthcoming.
Of course, Hermione replied darkly, and opened the folder, what is this?
The actions of today were unfortunate, but unavoidable. It is the Minister's and the Ministry's own fault that such measures were necessary. It is unconscionable that the Ministry of Magic would support the same creatures that attacked our children not a year ago.
There will be more acts of retribution until all of our righteous demands are met. First, all dark creatures employed by the Ministry will be immediately sacked and placed under arrest. Second, any Dark creature that is encountered in the wild should be executed on sight, as our ancestors did, this includes any halfling child. Third, we demand the immediate arrest of Arthur Weasley, Harry and Hermione Potter, Albus Dumbledore, Nymphadora Tonks and any other members of the current administration that have advocated the rise of these foul creatures from the muck that they belong in.
There will be no negotiation of our demands. You have one month to execute on them.
Signed,
The Sons of Ulrich.
"Lovely," Hermione sighed and tossed the folder and it's scrap of parchment to the coffee table in front of her. "Is this real? Honestly? They can't be serious."
Harry shrugged and stood from the couch, feeling her eyes on him as he paced around the room. "Intelligence says that they are a...minor splinter group, they've only done a few minor actions in the past, mostly graffiti and the like on halfway houses and such."
"And you believe that they are the ones responsible?"
Harry shrugged without looking back at her, "Bugger all if I know," he replied as he scrubbed his hands through his hair. "As far as the ones downstairs could tell, the group only had about ten or so for membership. We know there were two hitters there, one that hit Tonks and a second under Polyjuice disguised as Rita. We identified her as Thelma Gillette, she had a moderate file of things like Muggle-baiting, theft, a prostitution arrest, she was a Madame for a small house in lower east London, and a couple of other minor things. "
Where did we find Rita?
We haven't yet, I sent a team to her cottage outside of Glastonberry, but they didn't find her. It looked as if she hadn't been there for a week or two. Dead and the body Evanesco'ed, probably, I'd guess.
Hermione shrugged slightly, I wasn't her biggest fan, but...
Yeah. He looked up, in the direction that a few floors away, a very tired man was staring into a long cold coffee cup.
**************************Hogwarts**************************************
February 24, 2016
4:25 pm
"How are you, Ron?" Hermione asked as she stepped through the press of his rapidly-emptying sixth year class as they rushed out. She met Emilia's eyes for a beat, and shared a tired smile, before Em pulled Harriet along by the hand, with Xander following close behind.
Ron shrugged as the door closed behind their children, "I'm fine, Hermione...I guess." He looked towards the door where his daughter had just vanished, "She's not...I guess she's thinking that she could have seen it before it happened. Her mother is too. Even though Luna holds a grudge like you'd not believe once you finally make her mad, she's...not happy."
"Yeah..." Hermione replied, shrugging as she hopped up to perch on a study table near the front. She looked down at the battered trainers she had slipped on entirely too early to contemplate this morning, as she swung them back and forth and back up. "Sirius told me, this morning, he didn't want to say anything, but I guess she cried off and on all last night."
"I really didn't want to know that she was shacking up with my only daughter, Hermione," Ron replied wryly, an almost smile briefly dancing across his face.
"If you didn't know that...you really do have the range of a teaspoon," Hermione retorted with a faint smile. She pushed off the desk, and walked over to Ron, watching as he continued to stuff papers into a battered leather briefcase.
He stopped with a snarl and drew his wand, vanishing his briefcase and the papers in a purple spiral of light. Ron carefully slid his wand back under his robes, into a hidden sheath, and sat back into the leather desk chair. He placed his elbows on the desk and cradled his head in his hands.
"She wasn't the one who was supposed to die, Hermione," Ron whispered darkly, his voice rough with lack of sleep. "I was as mad at her as I could ever imagine, when we found out what all she had been up to. To try to take Harriet away from you and Harry, when we had expressly said she was to be with you, her little snits with Gina, Abby, the rest...But still, she wasn't supposed to be in danger...that time was over. All the time Luna and I were gone, at least we knew that everyone back here was safe, safer than were anyway."
Hermione walked around the desk, and hugged him, wrapping her arms around his neck as she half bent down. He froze for a moment, before turning enough to return it. She pulled back after another moment, and wiped absently at her own eyes.
"Are you going to be alright, Ron?"
"I suppose...I got past Charlie and Percy, Bill's attack...I should be fine, Gryffindor to the core you know." He smiled grimly and shrugged, standing from his chair as if he was much older than his actual years, "Harriet, Luna and me are going to head to the Burrow tonight after Dinner...I called off class for the week, Dumbledore said he'd take next week if I wanted it."
Hermione nodded, squeezing her eyes closed tightly, "Harry and I...anything...anything at all, Ron..."
"I know sis," he replied, bending down to kiss her cheek quickly. "Just catch them...and kill them. Kill every fucking one of them." He took a breath and straightened, walking stiffly from the room leaving the door open behind him.
Hermione swallowed, and walked to the leaded glass windows over looking the grounds. Fingers started to trace the lines of the panes, "We will, Ron, we will."
******************************Black Manor*******************************
8:15 pm
"We should get going, Gin," Draco murmured as he walked up behind the diminutive redhead and wrapped his arms around her as she looked out a plate glass window onto the grounds. A single thestral from the Malfoy's old herd padded past, his nose sniffing for blood, and Ginny shuddered.
Draco bent down and kissed her neck, finding the way easy, as her long, red hair had been cropped short, falling just below her ears. "Why did you cut your hair, Red...you haven't had it this short since the war."
She shrugged and moved back against him, as she buried her hands into worn jeans, "It seemed the thing to do." Ginny pulled out of his arms, and walked forward to the window. She pressed her hand to the cold glass, "Did he poison the boys, Draco?" she asked plaintively.
He shrugged, "The best the experts that I could contact, who would be discrete, and that would take Galleons to keep it silent, is that it didn't migrate to either of them, from the blood sample that he had...it's in ours." He sighed and gripped his left forearm, as if a sudden, remembered pain tore at his skin. "But he says its already bound to us, hiding in our magic, gathering strength...before it eats at us like a Muggle cancer, collapsing our organs...They guess, June or July, if we are lucky," he growled. "As long as we don't get the antidote by the start of June...if we wait past that, it won't matter."
Ginny nodded. "I don't want to lose you, Draco," she whispered without turning from the window. "I don't think that I could take it if I lost you, too." Her hand shook, "Charlie, Percy...Mum..."
"It'll mean we have to run, Ginny," Draco replied as he came to stand behind her again, turning her around and letting her bury her face against his jumper as she started to cry again, her eyes had not been dry, really, since Tuesday. "We won't be able to take the boys, they will have to stay behind; we may never see them again. We will be on the run for the rest of our lives, if there is any contact with our old lives, it will be at the point of an Auror's wand...and they won't be arresting us, not after that. "
Ginny nodded fitfully, "I know...but at least they will be alive."
"At least we will be alive, if only for a while."
A/N: And there we go, next chapter, Farewell to Thee