The journey to our safe-house had to be the longest and most complicated one in wizarding history. First we apparated to Grimmuald Place, not even taking a moment before we shrunk our trunks, found spare brooms, and took off into the sky. We flew for what seemed like forever, the stars whizzing past us thousands of miles away.
I had only flown this late at night twice in my life, both of them with George. The first time, I realized how much I cared for him. The second time I could barely remember, flying back after being kept prisoner for so long. That didn't matter though. Both of these memories made me feel as though I could reach out and grab the stars in front of me.
Our flight concluded in Dublin, where Moody had bought us plane tickets. He ushered us onto the plane and I sat in a sudden state of shock, although why being trapped in a giant metal flying machine was so terrorizing, I would never know. I attempted to sleep but my mind kept on wandering to faces that made me feel both tremendous joy and pain, which in combination with fear was absolutely deadly.
Once the plane landed in Boston, USA, we went through the menial task of attempting to exit the airport the muggle way. When the parking lot was finally in our reach, Moody directed us towards a bright yellow, beat-up Volkswagen.
He climbed into the front seat with a grumble of "I hate these damn metal contraptions", started the car with his wand, and drove us out of the airport parking lot with the speed of light, not even checking to make sure we had buckled our seat belts.
Moody was an angry driver, constantly slamming on the gas and the breaks at uncalled for opportunities while yelling at the other drivers on the road. Fortunately, this terror didn't last long as he finally turned into a deserted shopping-mall car park. He couldn't get out of the car fast enough, practically racing us across the lot.
"Come on now, we've got a portkey to catch" he said, his poly-juice potion beginning to fade as he had stopped taking continual sips of the flask he kept in his jacket. Barty Crouch Jr really had gotten him down to a tee in the forth year...
Dad and I had said the bare minimum to each other during this voyage, although we had traded comforting sideways glances as we were forced from point A to B. As we came up to the broken Jackson-5 CD case laying on the cement, he put a hand on my shoulder and said "It's almost over kiddo, almost over."
We each laid a hand on the case, took a deep breath, and spun out into oblivion.
Moody and dad landed steadily on the dirt road, surrounded by a thick row of trees on either side. I, on the other hand, landed with a thud on my arse. With an exasperated sigh, I flopped onto my back in the middle of the road while Moody and dad chuckled at me.
"Get up girly, we still have a bit of a walk ahead of us" he continued to laugh as dad helped me to my feet and we began to walk. The sun beamed down on me, hotter than the sun ever was in England, through the line of trees bordering either side of the road as I dragged my feet through the dirt.
I was tired. I was hungry. I was constantly drifting back and forth between the relief of freedom and the pain of leaving nearly everyone I loved. All I wanted to do was get to wherever the hell we were going so if I did decide to completely break again, I didn't have to worry about these two grown men seeing me.
"When are we going to get there? We've been walking down this road forever!" I groaned, forcing myself to keep up with Moody. The man walked as though he was on a mission to get the last piece of cake.
He laughed and looked back at me. "Road! This isn't any road, Ms. Connors. This is your driveway" he continued to chuckle like a lunatic.
"How far from civilization are we exactly?" I felt like an elderly muggle by the way I was speed walking.
"Far enough." My dad remained quiet throughout this conversation, merely squinting into the distance.
"And I'm assuming we can't apparate there because of some fancy protection spell?" Yet again, Moody laughed at me. Hearing him laugh was the oddest thing I had ever seen, his rough appearance throwing it off entirely.
"Smart as a whip, this one." I glared at the back of his head, which caused him to laugh harder. I think I might have enjoyed him as a teacher in forth year if it really was him teaching. "But don't worry too much, girly. We're here."
We rounded a final corner and a tiny house appeared, almost out of nowhere. It was a faded red, the siding at least two decades old. The dark windows were covered in a lair of dust and cobwebs, and I wouldn't place any bets on the stability of the roof.
But I had been in worse.
"Welcome to Chez Connors, the fanciest mansion in all of Mangham, Louisiana" Moody continued to laugh and climbed up the stairs, opening the door to the house for us. "Your home until further notice."
With a sigh, Dad and I followed him into the mansion of a shack, closing the creaky, wooden door behind us.
There wasn't much to do in Mangham, as I quickly discovered. Dad and Alastair didn't want me leaving the house and we didn't have cable so we were forced to watch the same films over and over again. There were only three upsides to the situation.
1) Dad quickly remembered that he had put Bart in his pocket, where he remained sleeping for our entire journey. He was just as fond of Mangham as I was.
2) All I really had to do to distract myself was study, so I got pretty far ahead in a majority of my subjects.
3) Everyone was safe. I couldn't say it enough.
So it would be the truth to say that I got bored fairly quickly. Somehow I began to grow fond of Alastair's random visits, although he brought the increasingly bad news from The Order. Of course, I wasn't told a single thing and was forced to obtain all of my information through extendable ears.
"Acelynne" Moody tilted his chin up in acknowledgment as he limped his way into the house.
"Hello Alastair" Dad yelled from outside of the main entrance. "I'm in the kitchen. Would you like some tea?"
I followed Moody into the kitchen as he shook his head. "No thanks, Jacobson. I have something that we need to discuss." His false eye swirled towards me unnervingly and he tapped his cane on the floor three times.
"I think it be best if she's out of the house for this discussion, Jacobson. Somewhere where she can't use those damn Weasley products to listen in" Moody gave me a wicked smile, causing mine to fall.
"Ace!" Dad practically gasped.
"I have no idea what he is talking about" I shrugged. "But if it would make you old bitties feel better, I'll just go into town and pick up some groceries or something. That is, if it's okay with you....And if I can have some money?" Slyly I leaned against the doorway and attempted to hide my internal struggle.
Perhaps I would finally get a chance to see the rest of Mangham, although something told me there wasn't much to see. But then again, this was obviously big if Moody didn't want me anywhere near the house when he told my dad.
"Here, take fifty dollars and pick up some eggs, milk, apples, and whatever else you want. You think you can find the shop on your own?" Dad looked awfully concerned as I walked towards the door and stuck the money in my pocket.
"I'm sure I'll manage" I shrugged, looking down at my wand before placing it on the counter.
"Take your wand!" Dad practically had a heart attack right there, but I merely rolled my eyes.
"And where am I supposed to hide it? It's hotter than hell out there and it's not like I can wear a cloak." Quickly I slipped on my trainers and popped open the door. "I'll be fine though, don't let me worry you two out of your gossip."
And with that, I walked outside and closed the door behind me. Immediately I went on a search for the bicycle I had seen laying around the garage, seeing as I bloody well wasn't going to walk to the shop.
It was propped underneath the kitchen window, which was left slightly open so I could here every word that Moody was telling my dad. I pretended to fiddle with the tires and gears and chain, hoping to catch some conversation between them.
"I'm sorry I couldn't have told you this sooner, Jacobson. We've been pretty tied up at the headquarters as you can imagine."
"I don't blame you Alastair...but... I just can't believe he's gone" Dad said solemnly. "I'm glad Ace wasn't here to hear that. She's so grateful for everything Dumbledore has done... did for us."
"It was a loss for all of us on two sides. We lost our leader and Snape, that fucking snake in the grass, killed him and went back to the Death Eaters" the sound of Moody's staff hitting the table angrily was followed by the clicking of glass of glass.
"So as you could imagine, our plans have been severely limited now that Dumbledore is gone. He was the only one that You-Know-Who was afraid of, the only thing stopping him from getting to Harry. We've planned to move him in two weeks, on his birthday. It's going to be dangerous."
"Who's all participating?" Dad asked and Moody chuckled.
"Anyone we could get our hands on. Practically every Weasley there is, except for the one in Romania and the one at the Ministry. Good lads really. Hagrid, Lupin, you know the group. We're moving him to the Burrow, placing protection spells around the house so only certain people can get through. Ms. Granger thought it up actually."
"So Hagrid and Lupin could walk through the spells no problem, but what about the Death Eaters?"
"Won't even be able to see it."
Before I could say another word, I leapt on my bike and peddled towards town. Dumbledore was dead. The great Albus Dumbledore was dead, killed by Snape. There was no way I could respond to that. Dumbledore was the greatest wizard who had ever lived and was murdered by a man who he literally trusted with his life.
I was disgusted.
And the plan to move Harry, the dangerous plan that involved practically everyone I knew and loved, was to happen in two weeks. I should be there with them, be in just as much danger as they are.
Practically every Weasley there is. The line wrung through my head, beating on every square inch of my brain. Ron, obviously, probably Ginny, Bill, Arthur, maybe Molly...and my boys. Fred and George.
My former boys, I reminded myself. My former boys.
For the next few days the only things I could think of was the impending countdown to another possible loss. Everything reminded me of him, especially Bart, who had taken to mourning the loss of his daddy just as he had taken to missing me. Of course, I didn't keep any visible photos of him but I did have that maroon sweater he wore on my birthday in fourth year. It had grown a bit snug so I took it from him, only letting him have it back when his scent had completely disappeared from it and taking it back once it had regained its rightful smell.
"Ace, I need you to go to the shop for me" Dad walked into the room, his nose the colour of a cherry and his hair sticking in up in every direction. Like father, like daughter I guess.
"Sure" I smiled and pushed myself off of the rug. "What for?"
"Obviously I'm feeling under the weather" he sniffed, sitting down on the couch with a pathetic look on his face.
"Yes, but I could make you any sort of remedy you need with my potions kit" I quickly bundled up my books and set Bart on my shoulder. "That is, if you let it out of lock-up." Although Dad said he trusted me, he still took away my potions privileges until further notice. Great way to study Healing, all theory and no application... not.
Dad's eyes immediately widened as he held up his hands and shook his head furiously. "No. I don't think I can quite handle that yet. I need you to bike to the shop and pick up some muggle medicine" he sounded out 'medicine' slowly, as if the word was foreign on his tongue. He held out some bills and I put them in my pocket.
"If you say so" I shrugged, placing my books and Bart in my room before closing the door behind me. "Is there any specific type I should get?"
"I think they're all the same" he scratched his head. "Now get on with it... I feel as though my head is going to explode."
I laughed and headed towards the door. "I've got the idea dad. You're dying. I'll be back faster than a bludger." I continued to laugh as I slipped on my sandals and headed out the front door.
The dark red bike was lying on the front lawn, its wheels turned in awkward directions. I picked it up off the grass and hopped on, taking off down the ridiculously long driveway and towards the shop.
I was starting to rather like the rusty piece of metal, much more than I liked the plane or car that is. Although I was completely stressed to the point where I thought that my hair might start to fall out, it may have been the only thing that made me feel free. Where I was able to go as fast as I wanted with nobody to stop me, the wind blowing my hair behind me and making a tangled mess of it, the dirt racing beneath the wheels and leaving a tread mark in my wake... It was more than I could ask for.
It was just so exciting, seeing as I didn't have a bike before now. I was able to ride the one at my grandparents place in France, so it wasn't all the hard to relearn. And there was so much going on around me as I biked and biked, I wasn't forced to think about things I rather didn't. Instead, all I had to do was focus on the road in front of me, keep my feet spinning on the petals, and make sure I didn't fall off.
And before I knew it, I was rounding the corner to the worn down little shop that marked the beginnings of civilization in the area. Beyond the shop were streets of similar looking buildings, none of them higher than two storeys, that kept a steady flow of townies moving in and out.
Jumping off of the bike, I propped it against the front window and headed inside. There weren't very many people inside. Two young, freckle-faced boys staring greedily into the candy display and a middle-aged man carrying a case of beer and pretzels. I made my way through the aisles, hoping to find this medicine my father spoke of.
And I found it, and found out he was entirely wrong. Headaches, sinus relief, migraines, aches and pains, fever, day, night, the list of possible medicines went on and on. Buckley's, Benadryl, Tylenol, Aspirin. I was completely lost on the subject.
"Can I help you, mam?" a boy, possibly my age, sauntered into the aisle with a broom in his hand and a 'Hello, my name is Peyton" nametag pinned to the front of his thin cotton t-shirt.
I nodded, pointing down to the row of medications. "My dad has a cold. Red nose, feels like his head is going to explode, etcetera. Do you have anything for that?"
The boy leaned the broom against the shelves and bent at the knees, giving the boxes a better look. "I think you need..." his fingers danced along the front labels until he stopped and grabbed a bright purple box. "This one. Cold and Sinus" he handed it to me and gave me a charming smile.
"Thank you" I said and he picked up his broom again.
"If you want, I can check you out at the front cash" he said and it took me a moment to translate 'front cash' to 'till'. I nodded awkwardly and followed him to the empty queue. He took the bottle from me and swiped it over some machine, which beeped before he handed it back to me. "That'll be 13.99."
I took out the wad of money from my pocket and handed it to him. "Here" I said and he laughed.
"You're from England, right?" he took a single bill from the wad and handed me out the rest. Then he put the bill in his machine and pulled out four more bills and a shiny copper coloured piece.
"How could you tell, the accent or the inability to comprehend medicine and money?" I laughed, taking back the change and stuffing it into my pocket. He handed me a small plastic bag for the medication and tucked his hands into his pockets.
"A bit of everything." He bit the inside of his hand before sticking it out to me. "I'm Peyton."
I shook his hand and tried to remain ignorant to the fact that he was absolutely gorgeous. He had light blond hair and deeply tanned skin, a series of freckles scattered along the bridge of his nose. His green eyes were framed by a set of practically invisible lashes and his arm flexed impressively as our hands pulled away from one another.
"I'm Acelynne" I bit my tongue to leave out 'Ace for short.'
"Well Acelynne, I've got to get back to work. But if you ever feel like dropping by again, I'd be happy to show you around the town, if somebody hasn't already." He gave me a charming smile, tilting his chin to the young women who had just walked through the door.
"I might take you up on that offer. How will I know when you're working?" I began to back away towards the door.
"My dad owns the store, so everyday" he laughed.
"Well then, I'll see you around" I popped open the door and gave him a final glance.
"I'll be looking forward to it" and with that, he went to help the rest of the customers in the shop. I went back to my bike, slid the bag over the handlebar, and began my ride back home.
I didn't want to admit he was cute. I didn't want to admit that I really did want to see him again. It was all because I didn't want to admit that I was a single woman once again, who could do those types of things. I wasn't in a relationship. I wasn't committed and it killed me to think that I wasn't.
I guess my plan to clear my mind with this little adventure wasn't a successful one.