Existing in Radiance

Chapter Forty-Four | The Burrow, July 1997

Chapter Forty-Four

The Burrow, July 1997

 

                  Dusk fell quickly over the Burrow, making it even harder to tell if anyone landed in the garden. Standing in the doorway, Hazel felt her insides ache painfully – she wished they had allowed her to go on the rescue mission, she would have felt so much better. They were all late, and it was the most horrible feeling in the world.

“Hazel?”

Turning, Hazel saw the youngest Weasley standing behind her, brown eyes fiercely guarded – she was worried too. “Hullo Ginny, still up?”

She snorted “I’m not a child Hazel. Besides,” she stared nervously out the window “I couldn’t sleep without knowing they’re all home.”

“Your brothers will be fine,” she assured the girl “They’re all very capable wizards.”

“I’m not only worried about my brothers.” She whispered, giving Hazel a meaningful look.

“I wasn’t sure if you wanted me to know,” she said gently “Harry is, after all, my godson.”

Ginny shrugged “We’re not together anymore anyway.”

“He played the hero, didn’t he?”

Sighing, Ginny joined her at the doorway. “How’d you know?”

Putting an arm around Ginny’s shoulders, Hazel chuckled “Because I knew his father. James would have done the same, and Lily…my dear friend would have socked him on the head and walked off in a huff. But they would have made up, they always did…you and Harry will too.”

“Unless he dies.” Ginny said softly, crossing her arms over her stomach.

“Yes,” said Hazel tightly “Unless he dies.”

Second later, two figures slammed onto hard ground, the smaller of the two falling onto his hands and knees. Hazel pushed past Hagrid, who had also collapsed on landing, clambered laboriously to his feet. She fell to her knees and pulled Harry to her, holding back sobs as she clung to him.

"Harry? You are the real Harry? What happened? Where are the others?" cried Mrs. Weasley.

"What d'you mean? Isn't anyone else back?" Harry panted as Hazel pulled away, apolagizing.

The answer was clearly etched in Mrs. Weasley's pale face.

"The Death Eaters were waiting for us," Harry told her, he and Hazel standing "We were surrounded the moment we took off they knew it was tonight I don't know what happened to anyone else, four of them chased us, it was all we could do to get away, and then Voldemort caught up with us."
He could hear the self-justifying note in his voice, the plea for her to understand why he did not know what had happened to her sons.

"Thank goodness you're all right," she said, pulling him into a hug he did not feel he deserved.

"Haven't go' any brandy, have yeh, Molly?" asked Hagrid a little shakily, "Fer medicinal purposes?"

She could have summoned it by magic, but as she hurried back toward the crooked house, Hazel knew that she wanted to hide her face. Harry turned to Ginny and she answered his unspoken plea for information at once.

"Ron and Tonks should have been back first, but they missed their Portkey, it came back without them," she said, pointing at a rusty oil can lying on the ground nearby. "And that one," she pointed at an ancient sneaker, "should have been Dad and Fred's, they were supposed to be second. You and Hagrid were third and," she checked her watch, "if they made it, George and Lupin aught to be back in about a minute."

Mrs. Weasley reappeared carrying a bottle of brandy, which she handed to Hagrid. He uncorked it and drank it straight down in one.

"Mum!" shouted Ginny pointing to a spot several feet away.

A blue light had appeared in the darkness: It grew larger and brighter, and Lupin and George appeared, spinning and then falling. Hazel knew immediately that there was something wrong: Lupin was supporting George, who was unconscious and whose face was covered in blood.

Harry ran forward and seized George's legs. Together, he and Lupin carried George into the house and through the kitchen to the living room, where they laid him on the sofa. As the lamplight fell across George's head, Ginny gasped and Hazel’s stomach lurched: One of George's ears was missing. The side of his head and neck were drenched in wet, shockingly scarlet blood.

No sooner had Mrs. Weasley bent over her son that Lupin grabbed Harry by the upper arm and dragged him, none too gently, back into the kitchen, where Hagrid was still attempting to ease his bulk through the back door.