Lemon Grass and Sleep

BECOMING THE CHOSEN ONE

August is a funny time of year. Even though it's my birth month, it never seemed like a particularly good time of year to look forward to. It's not quite fall, but school is starting soon, so everyone's already not enjoying their summer. Then again, this summer wasn't exactly conventional.

No wizards walked the streets of Diagon Alley anymore, there was no purpose in it. Nearly every shop was either abandoned or closed, including Weasley's Wizard Wheezes. It was too dangerous to leave the shop open all the time, so we spent our time indoors with the curtains mostly closed--out of sight.

Death eaters actively sought out members of the order at this point, leaving only 12 Grimmauld Place and the Burrow as relatively safe areas. The Burrow could only be considered safe so long as Harry was there in secret or wasn't there at all, though.

"Ready to go?" Fred asked gently, coming up behind me and resting his chin on my shoulder.

"Yeah," I sighed, resting my hands on his forearms, still looking out onto the street.

In the blink of an eye, we were outside Privet Drive, alongside several other Aurors and members of the order. We had all agreed to apparate at quarter until eight, and we hurriedly followed Mad Eye into the house.

I have to admit, I lagged behind a little. It was so rare to see the muggle world, so seeing a normal suburban neighborhood--somewhere I could've grown up with my own family, it had a certain appeal to it. Fred made sure to take me from it, though, pulling me into the house quickly.

It was barren inside, devoid of all furniture or even debris. Where I assumed the living room used to be was full of wizards and witches, everyone standing around as Mad Eye spoke to Harry.

"Potter, you're still underage. Means you've still got the trace on you."

Me and Fred gathered in the back with the rest of everyone else, Glinda grabbing onto my hand quickly as I stood beside her.

"What's the trace?" Harry sputtered out, looking smaller than I remembered him.

"If you sneezed, the Ministry'd know who wipes your nose," he gruffly answered, "Means we need to use transport the trace can't detect. Brooms, thestrals, and the like."

I nervously tried to remember how well Glinda was able to fly a broom back at Hogwarts, desperately hoping it was one of her better handled electives. Surely, Auror training involves broom flying, right?

"We'll move in pairs, that means if anyone's waiting out there for us--and I reckon there will be--they won't know which Harry Potter is the real one."

"The real one?" Harry replied, confused.

"I believe you're familiar with this particular brew?" Mad Eye brought out a bottle with a cap lid, swinging it around a little to show it off to the golden trio.

"No," Harry replied nearly instinctively. "Absolutely not."

It briefly occurred to me that nobody had told Harry what was going on, and I began to shift uncomfortably as I watched his body grow tense and angry.

"Told you he'd take it well," Hermione mused, quirking an eyebrow up.

"No, if you think I'm gonna let everyone risk their lives for me-"

"Never done that before, have I?" Ron joked quickly

"No, no-" Harry sputtered, gesturing to Mad Eye, "This is entirely different. Taking that--becoming me? No, no."

"Well, none of us really fancy it, mate," Fred offered, a smirk already growing on his face.

"Yeah, imagine if something went wrong and we end up a screwy speccy git forever," George snickered, leering forward a bit and making a face.

"Alright Granger, as discussed," Mad Eye lowly grumbled. Hermione immediately jumped to action and ripped some hair from the base of Harry's neck.

"Blimey, Hermione," Harry immediately bit out, rubbing the back of his neck.

Mad Eye smiled as he swirled the potion, allowing the brew time to finish. The designated Harry clones stepped forward, including the twins, me, Ron, Hermione, Mundungus, and Fleur.

"For those of you who haven't taken the polyjuice potion before, fair warning: it tastes like goblin piss."

"Have a lot of experiences with that, do you Mad Eye?" Fred joked, looking at Mad Eye's stony face for a reaction.

The room went silent as I tried to hold back the laugh that was trapped in my throat. George quietly looked at Fred with a look of approval for the joke.

"Just trying to diffuse the tension," Fred hummed, before taking a swig of the potion.

The bottle was passed around swiftly, the changes taking place nearly instantly. I could feel my bones shortening and my hair changing as I slowly grew closer to the ground. Soon, a line of Harry Potter stood before Mad Eye.

"Wow, we're identical," the twins immediately said, looking at each other.

"Ooh, original," Glinda mused softly from behind them.

"Not yet, you're not," Mad Eye responded, tossing a pile of clothes onto the ground.

"Haven't got something more sporting, have you?" George complained, picking up the gray jacket.

"Yeah, I don't really fancy this color," Fred looked at the shirt, giving Mad Eye a look.

"Fancy this, you're not you. So shut it, and strip," Mad Eye countered.

"Knew she was lying about that tattoo," Ron muttered under his breath, looking down at his chest.

"Harry," Mad Eye called out, all of us immediately looking up to him, "The...real Harry."

"Yeah," one of us called out, stepping forward.

"You ride with Hagrid."

"I brought you here, sixteen years ago-" Hagrid began going into some conversation with Harry that I could barely hear over the rustling of clothes and fabric brushing over my ears.

"Alright, let's go," Mad Eye called out, sending everyone into the yard where brooms and transportation waited.

"Right on," Glinda pulled her broom up and sat down, "You coming?"

"Yeah, yeah," I mumbled, throwing my leg over the other side of her broom. It was a little awkward, since the seat wasn't made for two people, but we got it down good enough.

"Hey," a Harry came over to me, "It's Fred."

"Oh, hi," I stammered, somehow off-put by this conversation.

"I would kiss you good luck, but this feels weird," Fred rolled his eyes, "But you stay safe up there, okay?"

"I'll see you at the Burrow," I smiled, an unsaid promise.

"Yes," he breathed out, "I'll see you at the Burrow."

We rose in formation into the sky, wands at the ready. It felt a little funny to have glasses frames resting on my face, and I looked down to gaze over the neighborhood one last time. Adrenaline coursed through me once again as we left the lights of the city behind and surrounded ourselves in low hanging clouds and the darkness of the night sky.

For the first few minutes, I was convinced everything was actually going to go according to plan, and this would be a nice, slow broom ride to the Burrow. The air was quiet, save for the wind brushing past my ears--and the night sky was filled with stars easily visible once we were above the cloud line. No emergency portkey needed.

I should have remembered it was a Tuesday.