There was once again a loud crack and Vega felt the familiar pressure on her body for the third time that night. Darkness flooded her vision, and then, in a split second, all of it was gone and her vision restored itself – and Vega found herself to be standing in a country lane, still beside Harry and Dumbledore, the night sky inky above them.
Looking right ahead, Vega immediately noted the crooked silhouette of the Burrow, and she couldn't help but smile slightly. She had missed this place a lot – and even though she wouldn't be seeing Fred here, she still had all of her friends around.
Ah, I already miss Freddie.
It was true that letters really weren't enough for Vega anymore – she wanted to go to him, to talk to him, joke around with him and to just sleep next to him. She let out a breath and hoped that Fred would get the chance to come around sometime soon.
"If you don't mind, Harry and Vega," Dumbledore said, as they passed through the gate. "I'd like a few words with you before we part – in private. Perhaps in here?"
Dumbledore pointed toward a run-down stone outhouse where the Weasleys usually kept all their broomsticks and Quidditch supplies. Vega didn't object to it and followed after him silently, passing through the creaking door into a space a little smaller than the average cupboard. Harry trailed behind the two, looking freely puzzled.
Once inside the hut, Dumbledore illuminated the tip of his wand, so that it glowed like a torch, and smiled down at both Vega and Harry.
"I hope you will forgive me for mentioning it, but I am pleased and a little proud at how well you two seem to be coping after everything that happened at the Ministry," Dumbledore told them. "Permit me to say that I think Sirius would have been proud of you,"
Vega was quiet, unsure what to say as she felt guilty that she wasn't still so upset, that she was trying to put that night in the very back of her head.
And it also didn't help that she had to hear names of individuals that she had otherwise been avoiding – hearing Harry's uncle Vernon say 'His godfather's dead?' so bluntly and then the casual conversation of Slughorn that brought up Sirius so many times. Lastly, to see Kreacher and hear about his undying loyalty to her cruel mother.
"It was cruel," Dumbledore said softly, looking toward Harry when he showed emotions first, swallowing hard. "That you and Sirius had such a short time together. A brutal ending to what should have been a long and happy relationship,"
Harry nodded; his eyes fixed resolutely on the spider now climbing Dumbledore's hat. Vega glanced toward her friend, and she hoped that from now, he wouldn't be on his own – she felt like he would always do something reckless when alone with his thoughts.
"It's just hard," Harry said finally, in a low voice. "To realise he won't write to me again," Vega looked away to give him some space as his eyes teared up.
"Sirius represented much to you that you had never known before," Dumbledore said gently. "Naturally, the loss is devastating..."
"But while I was at the Dursleys'..." Harry interrupted, his voice growing stronger. "I realised I can't shut myself away or – or crack up. Sirius wouldn't have wanted that, would he? And anyway, life's too short... look at Madam Bones, look at Emmeline Vance..." His voice was now fierce. "It could be me next, couldn't it? But if it is. I'll make sure I take as many Death Eaters with me as I can, and Voldemort too if I can manage it,"
"Spoken both like your mother and father's son and Sirius's true godson!" Dumbledore said, with an approving pat on Harry's back. "I take my hat off to you – or I would, if I were not afraid of showering you in spiders,"
For a moment, there was quiet as Harry tried to smile back, too.
"And now, Harry and Vega, on a closely related subject..." Dumbledore said. "I gather that you have been taking the Daily Prophet over the last two weeks?"
"Yes," Vega answered, and Harry nodded as well.
"Then you will have seen that there have been not so much leaks as floods concerning your adventure in the Hall of Prophecy?" Dumbledore asked.
"Yes," Harry replied while Vega frowned. "And now everyone knows that I'm the one –"
"No, they do not," Dumbledore interjected. "There are only three people in the whole world who know the full contents of the prophecy made about you and Lord Voldemort, and they are all standing in this smelly, spidery broom shed. It is true, however, that many have guessed, correctly, that Voldemort sent his Death Eaters to steal a prophecy, and that the prophecy concerned you. Now, I think I am correct in saying that you two have not told anybody that you know what the prophecy said?"
"No," Vega and Harry replied in unison.
"A wise decision, on the whole," Dumbledore said. "Although I think you ought to relax it in favour of your friends, Mr. Ronald Weasley and Miss Hermione Granger. Yes," He continued, when Harry looked startled. "I think they ought to know – you do them a disservice by not confiding something this important to them,"
"I didn't want –" Harry started.
"– to worry or frighten them?" Dumbledore asked, surveying them over the top of his half-moon spectacles. "Or perhaps, to confess that you yourself are worried and frightened? You need your friends, Harry. As you so rightly said, Sirius would not have wanted you to shut yourself away,"
Harry said nothing, but Dumbledore did not seem to require an answer.
"Professor, did you find out about my Prophecy?" Vega asked quietly. "Does it have something that can be done for me? Surely, Voldemort must've talked about it to others if went far enough to have Rigel and I born in the first place,"
"I haven't forgotten about you, of course," Dumbledore assured her. "I'm sure we will receive some information about it soon," He paused. "On a different, though related, subject, it is my wish that you two take private lessons with me this year,"
"Private lessons?" Vega asked as Harry was surprised out of his preoccupied silence. "With you?"
"Yes," Dumbledore agreed. "I think it is time that I took a greater hand in your education,"
"What will you be teaching us, sir?" Harry asked.
"Oh, a little of this, a little of that," Dumbledore replied airily and Vega looked down, frowning in her thoughts as she tried to make sense of it.
"If I'm having lessons with you, I won't have to do Occlumency lessons with Snape, will I?" Harry asked, and Vega looked back at Dumbledore.
"Professor Snape, Harry – and no, you will not," Dumbledore said.
"Good," Harry said in relief. "Because they were a –" He stopped, careful not to say what he really thought and Vega looked at him in panic.
"I think the word 'fiasco' would be a good one here," Dumbledore said, nodding. Harry laughed, and Vega let out an awkward smile.
"Well, that means I won't see much of Professor Snape from now on," Harry said. "Because he won't let me carry on Potions unless I get 'Outstanding' in my O.W.L., which I know I haven't,"
"Don't count your owls before they are delivered," Dumbledore said gravely. "Which, now I think of it, ought to be some time later today. Now, two more things, Vega and Harry, before we part,"
"Yes, Professor?" Vega asked.
"Firstly, I wish you to keep your Invisibility Cloak with you at all times from this moment onward," Dumbledore told them. "Even within Hogwarts itself. Just in case, you understand me? And Vega, would it be correct for me to assume you are capable of Disilluionment Charm?"
"Yes, Professor," Vega replied. "But uh, if it's about hiding around Hogwarts, then there's not a single person in Hogwarts who knows the secret passages as well as I do – well, now that Fred and George aren't at Hogwarts, you see,"
"I'm sure about that," Dumbledore said, smiling. "Surely, Mr. Fred Weasley made sure of that,"
"Yes..." Vega trailed off her, cheeks tinted pink under the wandlight. "He did,"
"And lastly, while you two stay here," Dumbledore said. "The Burrow has been given the highest security the Ministry of Magic can provide. These measures have caused a certain amount of inconvenience to Arthur and Molly – all their post, for instance, is being searched at the Ministry before being sent on. They do not mind in the slightest, for their only concern is your safety. However, it would be poor repayment if you risked your neck while staying with them,"
"I understand," Harry said quickly.
"We'll be very careful," Vega added in.
"Very well, then," Dumbledore said, pushing open the broom shed door and stepping out into the yard. "I see a light in the kitchen. Let us not deprive Molly any longer of the chance to deplore how thin you two have become,"
"I'm not really thin, I just stretched out," Vega muttered, but she knew that she had been eating considerably less over the years and it made her thinner.
Together, Vega, Harry and Dumbledore approached the back door of the Burrow, which was surrounded by the familiar litter of old Wellington boots and rusty cauldrons. As the soft clucking of sleepy chickens coming from a distant shed reached Vega's ears, he familiarity of the setting felt like she was returning home to a second home.
And the closer they got to the Burrow, Vega realised just how much she missed it and just how much she missed the people it housed. Evenings were lovely these days, and Vega could only wish to spend one with Fred right in this unruly backyard.
Certainly, the afternoon that she had spent with her head across Fred's arm as they laid in the field behind the Tonks Residence had been the highlight of her summer.
To sleep next to Fred under the warm sunlight and the summery breeze with no concerns was something that Vega could only dream of.
Dumbledore knocked three times and almost immediately, Vega saw sudden movement arise behind the kitchen window. And even from here, Vega could see that the silhouette was clearly of Mrs. Weasley – a very uncertain Mrs. Weasley.
"Who's there?" said a nervous voice of Mrs. Weasley's. "Declare yourself!"
"It is I, Dumbledore, bringing Vega and Harry," Dumbledore answered.
The door opened at once. There stood Mrs. Weasley, short, plump, and wearing an old green dressing gown, "Harry and Vega, dears! Gracious, Albus, you gave me a fright, you said not to expect you before morning!"
"We were lucky," Dumbledore replied, ushering Vega and Harry over the threshold. "Slughorn proved much more persuadable than I had expected. Vega and Harry's doing, of course. Ah, hello, Nymphadora!"
Vega's own eyes had fallen onto the woman sitting in Mrs. Weasley's kitchen, despite the lateness of the hour – a young witch with a pale, heart-shaped face and mousy brown hair was sitting at the table clutching a large mug between her hands, her cousin Dora.
"Hello, Professor," Dora replied, not mustering up energy to correct Dumbledore about her full name, unfortunately. "Wotcher, Nova and Harry,"
"Hi, Tonks," Harry replied, but he noticed how sorrowful Vega looked, and he could see why – Dora looked drawn, even ill, and there was something forced in her smile.
Clearly, her appearance was less colourful than usual without her customary shade of bubble-gum-pink hair and that was as unnatural as seeing Vega with bright hair.
"You were here, Dora?" Vega asked. "I was hoping to say my little goodbye to you at home,"
"Sorry about that, Nova," Dora replied as she stood up to give her a tight hug. "You didn't have any trouble, did you?" Vega shook her head no and Dora gave her a small smile. "Good, then, I'd better be off – thanks for the tea and sympathy, Molly,"
"Please don't leave on my account," Dumbledore said courteously. "I cannot stay, I have urgent matters to discuss with Rufus Scrimgeour,"
"No, no, I need to get going," Dora said, not meeting Dumbledore's eyes as she pulled her cloak around her shoulders. "'Night –"
"Dear, why not come to dinner at the weekend?" Mrs. Weasley asked. "Vega will be here, too, and Remus and Mad-Eye are coming –?" Vega realised what had happened.
"No, really, Molly..." Dora replied. "Thanks anyway... good night, everyone, and Vega, I hope you stay exceptionally safe and not get into trouble,"
"I won't give you any more worries," Vega promised earnestly. "Be safe on your way back... and have a good night as well – see you soon,"
With that, Dora hurried past Vega, Harry and Dumbledore and into the yard; a few paces beyond the doorstep, she turned on the spot and vanished into thin air. Vega stared at the location for some seconds and then looked away to find a concerned look on Mrs. Weasley's face – it was clear what Dora had been discussing with the Weasley matriarch.
Of course, Dora had only select-few people to discuss Lupin with.
Given that she couldn't even do it with her parents as they didn't know him.
"Well, I shall see you at Hogwarts, Vega, Harry," Dumbledore said. "Take care of yourselves. Molly, your servant," He made Mrs. Weasley a bow and followed Dora, vanishing at precisely the same spot.
Mrs. Weasley closed the door on the empty yard and then steered Vega and Harry by the shoulders into the full glow of the lantern on the table to examine their appearances. Vega was surprised but allowed the older woman to do as she wanted as Mrs. Weasley looked the pair of them up and down to take in their appearance.
"You're both like Ron," Mrs. Weasley said as she sighed. "All three of you look as though you've had Stretching Jinxes put on you. I swear Ron's grown four inches since I last bought him school robes. But I didn't know you had more inches to go, Vega!"
"All the women in my family are quite tall," Vega admitted awkwardly, who had always been consistently taller than both Harry and Hermione. "I suppose I got my height from there, too..."
In fact, the shortest woman that Vega knew in her maternal family was Dora, and even Dora was significantly above average for a female. Her aunts and mothers, and even Sirius and portraits around the 12 Grimmauld Place showed tall individuals. But Vega didn't know how her paternal side of the family suited in their appearance.
"I know, I know, you look really nice with Fred," Mrs. Weasley told her fondly, and Vega blushed deeply. "But you two need to get some meat on – are you hungry?"
"Yeah, I am," Harry said.
Just to appease Mrs. Weasley, Vega nodded in agreement as well, and she felt like she could do with the food, too, given that she had her dinner when the sun had barely set in the horizon. And she might have a good sleep with a full stomach.
"Sit down, dears, I'll knock something up," Mrs. Weasley said.
Both Vega and Harry took their usual seats in the cosy kitchen – and immediately a furry ginger cat with a squashed face jumped onto Vega's knees and settled there, purring. Vega's first reaction was to coo and then hug the cat, stroking the ginger cat's head affectionately, "You missed me, didn't you, Crooksy? I missed you, too, my big boy,"
"So, Hermione's here?" Harry asked happily as he tickled Crookshanks behind the ears as well.
"Oh yes, she arrived the day before yesterday," Mrs. Weasley said, rapping a large iron pot with her wand. It bounced onto the stove with a loud clang and began to bubble at once. "Everyone's in bed, of course, we didn't expect you two for hours. Here you are –"
With that, Mrs. Weasley tapped the pot again; it rose into the air, flew toward Vega and Harry, and tipped over; Mrs. Weasley slid two bowls neatly beneath it just in time to catch the stream of thick, creamy, steaming onion soup, "Bread, dear?"
"Yes, thank you very much, Mrs. Weasley," Vega replied gratefully.
Mrs. Weasley waved her wand over her shoulder; a loaf of bread and a knife soared gracefully onto the table; as the loaf sliced itself and the soup pot dropped back onto the stove, Mrs. Weasley sat down opposite them.
"So, you've both persuaded Horace Slughorn to take the job?" Mrs. Weasley asked.
"I'm not quite sure how but Dumbledore says so," Vega answered as she ate carefully, offering some plain bread to Crookshanks while Harry just nodded, his mouth so full of hot soup that he could not speak in response.
"He taught Arthur and me," Mrs. Weasley informed them. "He was at Hogwarts for ages, started around the same time as Dumbledore, I think – did you like him?"
"I thought he was okay," Vega admitted, given that Harry's mouth was now too full of bread to reply and she went on, "He looked rather... jovial. I don't think I can hold it against him but he felt, to me, a bit... vain and possessive of his collection of students,"
"I know what you mean," Mrs. Weasley said, nodding wisely. "Of course, he can be charming when he wants to be, but Arthur's never liked him much. The Ministry's littered with Slughorn's old favourites, he was always good at giving leg ups, but he never had much time for Arthur – didn't seem to think he was enough of a highflier. Well, that just shows you, even Slughorn makes mistakes. I don't know whether Ron's told you two in any of his letters – it's only just happened – but Arthur's been promoted!"
It could not have been clearer that Mrs. Weasley had been bursting to say this. Harry swallowed a large amount of very hot soup and chorused in unison with Vega, "That's great!"
"You are sweet," beamed Mrs. Weasley, possibly taking Harry's watering eyes for emotion at the news. "Yes, Rufus Scrimgeour has set up several new offices in response to the present situation, and Arthur's heading the Office for the Detection and Confiscation of Counterfeit Defensive Spells and Protective Objects. It's a big job, he's got ten people reporting to him now!"
"That's amazing," Vega said and went on keenly, "What does work consists of for him now?"
"Well, you see," Mrs. Weasley went on. "In all the panic about You-Know-Who, odd things have been cropping up for sale everywhere, things that are supposed to guard against You-Know-Who and the Death Eaters. You can imagine the kind of thing –
"So-called protective potions that are really gravy with a bit of Bubotuber pus added, or instructions for defensive jinxes that actually make your ears fall off... well, in the main the perpetrators are just people like Mundungus Fletcher, who've never done an honest day's work in their lives and are taking advantage of how frightened everybody is.
"But every now and then something really nasty turns up. The other day Arthur confiscated a box of cursed Sneak-o-Scopes that were almost certainly planted by a Death Eater. So, you see, it's a very important job, and I tell him it's just silly to miss dealing with spark plugs and toasters and all the rest of that Muggle rubbish,"
Mrs. Weasley ended her speech with a stern look, as if it had been Vega or Harry suggesting that it was natural to miss spark plugs.
"Is Mr. Weasley still at work?" Harry asked as Vega spread some soup on her bread and took a bite of the food.
"Yes, he is," Mrs. Weasley said. "As a matter of fact, he's a tiny bit late... He said he'd be back around midnight..." She turned to look at a large clock that was perched awkwardly on top of a pile of sheets in the washing basket at the end of the table.
Vega looked around at the clock with nine hands, each inscribed with the name of a family member, and usually hung on the Weasleys' sitting room wall, though its current position suggested that Mrs. Weasley had taken to carrying it around the house with her.
Every single one of its nine hands was now pointing at 'mortal peril' – and at once, Vega's eyes halted on the hand named Fred, staring at it closely.
"It's been like that for a while now," Mrs. Weasley said, in an unconvincingly casual voice. "Ever since You-Know-Who came back into the open. I suppose everybody's in mortal danger now... I don't think it can be just our family... but I don't know anyone else who's got a clock like this, so I can't check – oh!"
With a sudden exclamation she pointed at the clock's face. Vega and Harry both saw that Mr. Weasley's hand had switched to 'traveling.'
"He's coming!" Mrs. Weasley informed them.
And sure enough, a moment later there was a knock on the back door. Mrs. Weasley jumped up and hurried to it; with one hand on the doorknob and her face pressed against the wood she called softly out to the person, "Arthur, is that you?"
"Yes," came Mr. Weasley's weary voice. "But I would say that even if I were a Death Eater, dear – ask the question!"
"Oh, honestly..." Mrs. Weasley responded.
"Molly!" Mr. Weasley exclaimed.
"All right, all right... What is your dearest ambition?" Mrs. Weasley asked.
"To find out how airplanes stay up," Mr. Weasley replied. Mrs. Weasley nodded and turned the doorknob, but apparently Mr. Weasley was holding tight to it on the other side, because the door remained firmly shut. "Molly! I've got to ask you your question first!"
Vega stifled her giggle and pretended to be busy eating dinner, not wanting to be caught in anything. Harry, on the other hand, was looking curious.
"Arthur, really, this is just silly..." Mrs. Weasley said.
"What do you like me to call you when we're alone together?" Mr. Weasley questioned.
Even by the dim light of the lantern Vega could tell that Mrs. Weasley had turned bright red. Vega's own cheeks turned red and she hurriedly busied herself with eating while Harry hastily gulped soup, clattering his spoon as loudly as he could against the bowl.
"Mollywobbles," whispered a mortified Mrs. Weasley into the crack at the edge of the door and Vega could understand – she would die if she were to admit things like that in front of kids.
"Correct," Mr. Weasley said. "Now you can let me in,"
Mrs. Weasley opened the door to reveal her husband, a thin, balding, red-haired wizard wearing horn-rimmed spectacles and a long and dusty traveling cloak.
"I still don't see why we have to go through that every time you come home," Mrs. Weasley said, still pink in the face as she helped her husband out of his cloak. "I mean, a Death Eater might have forced the answer out of you before impersonating you!"
"I know, dear, but it's Ministry procedure, and I have to set an example. Something smells good – onion soup?" Mr. Weasley asked he turned hopefully in the direction of the table. "Harry and Vega! We didn't expect you until morning!"
Vega and Harry stood up to greet the man, and the three of them shook hands before Mr. Weasley dropped into the chair beside Harry as Mrs. Weasley set a bowl of soup in front of him too. The pair of teenagers pretended to not be aware of the nickname.
"Thanks, Molly," Mr. Weasley said. "It's been a tough night – some idiot has started selling Metamorph-Medals. Just sling them around your neck and you'll be able to change your appearance at will. A hundred thousand disguises, all for ten Galleons!"
"And what really happens when you put them on?" Mrs. Weasley asked.
"Mostly you just turn a fairly unpleasant orange colour," Mr. Weasley answered. "But a couple of people have also sprouted tentacle-like warts all over their bodies – as if St. Mungo's didn't have enough to do already!"
"It sounds like the sort of thing Fred and George would find funny," Mrs. Weasley said hesitantly and Vega looked up at the name of her boyfriend. "Are you sure –?"
"Of course, I am!" Mr. Weasley said. "The boys wouldn't do anything like that now, not when people are desperate for protection!"
"Fred and George haven't been working on anything like that," Vega pitched in. "Fred always tells me about stuff that he's been doing, or what he's going to try... we go over their inventions to make sure it doesn't break any law,"
"Is that so?" Mrs. Weasley asked. "In that case, I suppose it's alright..." She was clearly very relieved to find that Vega had been in touch. "So, is that why you're late, Metamorph-Medals?"
"No, we got wind of a nasty backfiring jinx down in Elephant and Castle," Mr. Weasley said. "But luckily the Magical Law Enforcement Squad had sorted it out by the time we got there..."
Harry stifled a yawn behind his hand.
"Bed," said an undeceived Mrs. Weasley at once. "I've got Fred and George's room all ready for you, you'll have it to yourself – well, you'll have Vega around for tonight,"
"Why, where are they?" Harry asked as he looked toward Vega, and he realised that neither Vega nor Fred would've stayed away from each other if they were in the same house.
"Oh, they're in Diagon Alley, sleeping in the little flat over their joke shop as they're so busy," Mrs. Weasley informed him. "Fred wanted to be here before you came, Vega, but I heard you met each other?" Vega nodded. "He mentioned you visited each other,"
"Yes, he came by last weekend, and I went over... the next day," Vega replied, trying to keep the idea of them sleeping together in another galaxy. "Yes, like that,"
"I must say, I didn't approve at first, but they do seem to have a bit of a flair for business!" Mrs. Weasley said. "Come on, dears, your trunks already up there – there's two beds there so you can have one each and I'll shift you to Ginny's room in the morning, Vega, the girls won't let you sleep if we stir them awake at this hour,"
"It's quite alright," Vega said quickly, not wanting to be any more trouble than she had already become. "I'm okay with sleeping anywhere – goodnight, Mr. Weasley,"
"'Night, Mr. Weasley," Harry added as well, pushing back his chair.
Crookshanks allowed Vega to pick him up as she stood up from her seat, and he curled in her arms – clearly telling her to take him along with herself.
"G'night, Harry, Vega," Mr. Weasley replied.
Vega noticed that Mrs. Weasley glanced at the clock in the washing basket as they left the kitchen. All the hands were once again at 'mortal peril' – and Vega knew the kind of fear Mrs. Weasley had, because they both had the same one.
Fred and George's bedroom was on the second floor. Mrs. Weasley pointed her wand at a lamp on the bedside table and it ignited at once, bathing the room in a pleasant golden glow. Though a large vase of flowers had been placed on a desk in front of the small window, their perfume could not disguise the lingering smell of fireworks and gunpowder.
A considerable amount of floor space was devoted to a vast number of unmarked, sealed cardboard boxes, amongst which stood both Vega and Harry's school trunks. The room looked as though it was being used as a temporary warehouse.
Hedwig hooted happily at Harry from her perch on top of a large wardrobe, then took off through the window; it was clear she had been waiting to see him before going hunting. Aquila, on the other hand, didn't seem like he was into hunting but still, glanced at Vega and then toward the departing figure of Hedwig in the distance.
"You can go, too," Vega told him, and Aquila gratefully flew off into the night after the snowy owl. "Good night, Mrs. Weasley, thank you for the food," She set Crookshanks down on the floor.
It was mostly quiet after they made Mrs. Weasley good night and she left. They took turns to change into their nightly clothing in the adjacent bathroom, and Vega was first to pick out a bed – and she quickly took Fred's, meeting with his familiar scent. Crookshanks jumped up onto the bed and curled around her feet.
And it wasn't until now that Vega realised just how much comfort she had started to find in this aroma and as she pulled the blanket over, she found sleep coming to her quicker than most nights, and she smiled to herself as she fell asleep.
⚡️