Shell Cottage

Arrival at the Cottage

This is a preview. I will add on later when I'm in the mood.
12/31/21 This chapter has been updated! I'm damn slow at new chapters, but this is now an active story; not a preview.

It was the middle of a peaceful spring night, and Bill Weasley couldn't sleep. His wife, Fleur, was sleeping soundly but Bill couldn't seem to turn off his brain. Little did he know, he was not the only one awake at two in the morning.

Far away in a dingy pub was Aberforth Dumbledore, and he was about to place a brand new burden onto Bill Weasley. He sent Dobby, the house elf, off to Malfoy Manor to rescue said burden, and minutes later the oldest Weasley brother was snapped out of his reverie by a loud crack.

"Fleur... Fleur, wake up!" She stirred slightly and lifted her eyes open. "Someone's here; they've apparated to the house. I just heard it." Startled, she sat up in bed, running out the door in no more than her silk pajamas. "Bill! Get zee wand! It could only be zee Death Eaters!" Gathering himself, Bill quickly ran after her.

They ran through the house, stopping at the front door as Bill thrust his arm out. "We can't just run out, wands blazing. What if it's Ron again? Assume the worst, but hope for the best."

"Bill Weasley!"

Bill started, wide-eyed. It was coming from the yard. Whoever this was has managed to enter inside the fidelius charm. Bill glanced at Fleur, sharing a knowing look. The both knew that the only people who could do that were goblins, house elves, and people they trusted enough to give their address to. They wrenched open the door.

"Bill Weasley?" It was the same voice from before; it should have been deep and melodic, but was clearly worn and ragged. "Please Mr. Weasley," another voice, light and delicate, almost dreamy, "we will not try to cause you harm. None of us have any wands." No wands? Wait... he knew that voice. "Luna?! I thought you were captured!" "We were, but Mr. Dobby helped us to escape." We... Bill looked into the darkness for the first time and saw three figures, rather than the two he had been expecting. Two skeletal frames on either side, holding up a third which seemed to be only half-conscious and withered away to nearly nothing. On the right was Luna, thinner than he had ever seen her. Here skin was almost gray from lack of sunlight and her hair was thick and matted. She wore a threadbare, cotton dress with no shoes. On the right was a tall black boy. He was even taller than Bill, himself, at six-foot-one. He was much dirtier than Luna. Whereas she was dusty and gritty, on him the dirt seemed to be almost a part of him. Dirt and thin, red lines of blood were soaked so deeply into the pads of his fingers that it may never entirely come off. Bill vaguely recognized his face, but there were many things that didn't fit with the picture in his brain. Firstly were the short, messy dreadlocks that were halfway to his shoulders; Bill's mind kept trying to force a more clean-cut, schoolboy haircut on him. Nothing like the one he sported now, which he clearly had not grown on purpose. Secondly were his clothes. Bill was sure that he was a student, and pictured him in Hogwarts robes. What he was wearing, however, was a thinning henley top with evidence of far too many stitching charms to hide with magic, paired with a muddy pair of blue jeans. He wore black books with something that looked suspiciously like blood drying near the soles. He was clearly just as malnourished as Luna, but he was also covered in lean muscles, like those of a runner. The man they were holding up had white, messy hair down to the middle of his rib cage. Compared to this man, Luna could be considered healthy. He was covered in filth and even grayer than Luna.

Bill shook himself as the shock wore off. "Declare yourselves!" he demanded, his Order training kicking in finally. "I am Luna Lovegood," she answered. "My father and I danced at your wedding, where we met cousin Barney before he left." Well, she was certainly cleared if she knew about Harry's disguise. Then the first voice spoke up again "I am Dean Thomas." Dean Thomas... he knew that name. "I dated your sister, Ginny, for a semester last year. She has a birthmark behind her left ear." That's where he knew him from... Ginny dated him. Wasn't he supposed to be traveling with a goblin as well? Dean's voice continued, and Bill noticed for the first time just how weak and broken he sounded, as though all light had disappeared from the world; he supposed it had, in a way. "And this," his silhouette gestured to the middle figure, "is Garrick Ollivander."

"Ze dead vand maker?" Fleur remarked, eyes wide. His eyes slowly opened and a soft, gravelly voice came out. "Dead..." a low, humorless chuckle "I have no doubt they would prefer it... no no, my dear. Kidnapped, not dead." His eyes closed again and his head slumped onto Dean's shoulder lightly.

Flustered, Bill rushed foreword and took Luna's half of the body, as she was at a bit of a disadvantage due to her smaller stature. She stepped away, breathing heavily. Slowly, they made their way back to the house. Bill's mind was racing. Ollivander? Alive? How was it possible? The old wizard was definitely over one hundred years old and had been presumed dead for nearly two years. To be kidnapped at his age for that long... it was a miracle that he was even breathing.

Suddenly, he was snapped out of his thoughts by another loud crack and nearly jumped out of his skin. Luna had stopped in the doorway with Fleur and was searching the lawn expectantly. Then, he heard it. Crying and anguished screaming. On the beach were five figures. His little brother had Hermione cradled in his arms like a child. She was clearly unconscious and seemed to be dripping blood. Ron was sobbing, and their eyes met silently for a moment before he took in the other three figured. Harry Potter was clutching the nearly-lifeless body of what seemed to be a house elf. A few feet away, being pushed back and forth by the tide, was a seemingly unconscious goblin. That must be the one with Dean, Bill realized. After this moment of shock, the spell seemed to wear off.

Dean was the first to speak, jumping into action with highly-practiced instincts, "Bill! Lay Garrick on the grass and go help Ron. I need a wand." Garrick. That was new, Bill thought. Dean had begun running towards Harry and the house elf. Why was he running? He must have seen some finer detail that Bill had missed"A wand! Harry! Give me a wand!" Harry paid no notice, lost in his grief, and Dean wrenched one of the many in his grasp away with far less difficulty than Bill would have expected from a boy that emaciated. He said something to the elf, then quickly removed something that had been resting on its abdomen, eliciting a small whimper. A knife! He was stabbed, and still managed to disapparate. As Bill began running towards Ron and Dean began performing an extremely complex wand movement, seemingly unperturbed by the extensive amount of blood, it struck Bill how odd this response was. He had met Dean once, he realized, and he did not seem the bold type. He was certainly kind and definitely possessed the sort of quiet courage needed to be sorted into Gryffindor, but he would not have taken charge of an emergent situation with two adults already present. Then, Bill thought, he supposed he was an adult now. They all were. You could not fight in a war and still call yourself a child. Not to mention the fact that Dean had been on the run for who knew how long with two goblins and two middle-aged wizards in probably a small tent. The power dynamics he was used to at the moment were certainly not the same as Bill was.

Bill shook himself and kept on running. Upon reaching his brother, he laid a firm hand on his shoulder and looked him deep in the eyes. "It's okay Ronnie. We'll save her." Bill lifted a now slightly-conscious and whimpering Hermione from his brother's arms and began carrying her into the house. It seemed that Luna was right on his tail and had enveloped Ron in a hug, helping him back to his feet. She slung an arm around his shoulder and supported him with a strength that she didn't have. As he began walking back to the house, now more slowly, his mind once again began to race. He glanced at Dean and Harry. Harry seemed to have stopped sobbing and was urging Dean on in his movements. Dean, for his part, was finishing what Bill now recognized to be an extremely advanced healing charm. A healing charm that he, himself, couldn't even do. It was meant to build skin over a wound, one of the only spells that could help with werewolf bites. Then again, he realized, Dean had been traveling with Ted Tonks before they got separated, assuming Potterwatch had it right. (No he didn't die in my story.) Ted, being a healer, must have taught it to Dean. There was no other explanation. That spell was only taught at the healer academy. Bill was momentarily impressed as Dean laid a hand on Harry's shoulder. Harry scooped up the elf and started carrying it up the beach. Soon they would all be inside and could sort out what had happened, but for the time being, Bill was content with his friends - no - family being safe.