The Thestral landed right in front of the Burrow. Harry and Ginny were talking nearby. I swung my leg off the side of the skeletal creature and stood on the ground again. It felt nice to have my feet on solid ground. Dad gave me a hug and wrapped an arm around my shoulder as we walked towards the house. I could feel the Polyjuice Potion coming off, as my hair began to grow back. Behind us, several yards away, a blue light flashed in the darkness. Lupin materialized, cradling an unconscious "Harry," clothes torn, head awash in blood.
"Here! Quick! Into the house!" Lupin was dragging a Harry on his shoulders. Real Harry rushed to the other side of the Harry that was now being brought into the house. It was George. Lupin and Harry dropped George onto the sofa where Mrs. Weasley stood over him. I noticed Bill and Fleur standing behind it. As soon as Lupin regained his breath, he grabbed a fistful of Harry's shirt and hurled him, none too gently, against the wall. "Come here!"
"Lupin!" Hagrid exclaimed.
"What are you doing?" Ginny asked frantically.
"What creature sat in the corner the first time Harry Potter visited my office in Hogwarts?" He asked Harry, wand pointed to his chin, giving him a small shake.
"Are you mad?!" Harry yelled.
"What creature?!"
"A—" Harry closed his eyes trying to remember, "Grindylow."
Breathing heavily, Lupin slowly released Harry and moved away from him. He turned to us.
"We have been betrayed. Voldemort knew you were being moved tonight. I had to make sure you were not an imposter."
Harry nodded.
There was a boom in the distance and Lupin rushed out. We followed. He pulled out his wand. "Wait!" He said to us.
Kingsley held up his wand as well. "The last words Albus Dumbledore spoke to the pair of us."
"'Harry is the best hope we have. Trust him.'" Lupin recited.
Kingsley lowered his wand and wheels on Harry.
"What gave you away?" he asked.
"Hedwig I think. She was trying to protect me." Harry replied.
Just then, the yard glowed with blue light and Tonks materialized, dragging a Harry behind with her. It was Ron, but that doesn't stop Hermione from enveloping him in a fierce hug as he transforms back into his battle-weary self. He looks mildly abashed to be in such close proximity to Hermione.
"Thanks," Ron said as they pulled apart.
"He deserves that. Brilliant he was. I wouldn't be standing here if it weren't for him," Tonk complimented as she hugged her husband.
"Really?" Hermione asked.
"Always the tone of surprise," Ron replied. Hermione took off his glasses. Harry and I took off, grabbing our friends and pulling them into a hug. In the distance, Fred and Mr. Weasley appeared.
"We the last back?" Mrs. Weasley asked patting his son on the shoulder. "Where's George?"
We all stayed silent. Fred and Mr. Weasley eyed us all before dashing into the sitting room, I followed close behind. We walked into Mrs. Weasley, stroking her son's hair as he rested on the couch, and where his ear should be, blood all over. Mr. Weasley stopped dead in his tracks. Mrs. Weasley looked up, her face saying it all. Fred came up to his father's shoulder, eyes stinging with tears as he saw his twin. For the first time since I had known him, Fred seemed to be lost for words. He gaped over the back of the sofa at his twin's wound as if he could not believe what he was seeing. As if sensing us, George stirred. Fred dropped the his knees next to him.
"How you feeling, Georgie?" asked Fred.
"Saintlike," George murmured.
Fred looked confused and slightly terrified. "Come again?"
George opened his eyes and looked up at his brother. "Saintlike," he repeated. "I'm holey. I'm holey, Fred. Get it?" He lifted a blood-crusted finger and pointed to the dark cavity in the side of his skull.
Color flooded Fred's pale face. "The whole wide world of ear-related humor and you go for 'I'm holey.'
That's pathetic."
"Reckon I'm still better looking than you."
That's when Dad stepped up. "Mad-Eye's dead," he announced. The room went still. "Mundungus took one look at Voldemort and disapparated."
We all looked around at the grim faces. Nobody said a word.
. . .
"Ready when you are!" Mr. Weasley yelled across the yard. An enormous circle of silk laid flat upon the ground. Hagrid, Mr. Weasley, Bill, Ron, Fred and I stood on its periphery, wands poised. Though Ron and Fred kept messing around. "Please pay attention! It's your brother's wedding. Buck up! Come on keep up! All together now! One. Two. Three!"
The silk began to rise as we raised our wands, pitching itself into a perfect wedding marquee, trembling wondrously in the morning breeze.
It was the day of Bill and Fleur's wedding. James was invited but was unable to make it due to an emergency at St. Mungo's. I was dressed for the occasion in a magenta dress with matching shoes. My hair was done, and I had my purse at my side.
Hermione was going to bring hers too. That morning we had filled our bags with the clothes of the boys.
"How's it looking on your end boys?" Mr. Weasley asked.
"Brilliant!" Fred yelled.
"Bloody hell," said George as he approached. "What is the Minister of Magic doing here?"
I turned my head to look at Rufus Scrimgeour, who used to be the Head of the Auror department but was now the Minister of Magic, walking up to the Burrow.
Ron and I headed inside with the Minister. Hermione and Harry came from around the corner.
"To what do we owe the pleasure, Minister?" asked Harry.
"I think we both know the answer to that question, Mr. Potter," Scrimgeour replied.
We were sat down on the sofa. Not all of us were able to fit so I sat on the armrest. The Minister sat across from us on his chair. He opened up his bag and began to unload it. He pulled out a tiny sack of things and placed it on the coffee table in front of him. We looked from it up to him.
"And this ...?" Harry asked.
Scrimgeour reached into his bag and removed a scroll of parchment. He let it fly into the air and unravel. He began to read aloud.
"Herein is set forth the last will and testament of Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore. First, to Ronald Bilius Weasley I leave my Deluminator. A device, of my own making, in the hope that when things seem most dark it will show him the light."
Scrimgeour took something from the sack. It looked something like a silver muggle cigarette lighter. I had seen it as I walked through London to the Hogwart's Express. Scrimgeour leaned forward and passed the Deluminator to Ron, who took it and took off the cloth covering it. He turned it over in his fingers, looking stunned. "Dumbledore left this for me?" he asked.
"Yeah," Scrimgeour replied.
"Brilliant. What is it?" Ron gave the Deluminator a click, and all the light rushed out from the lamps into the Deluminator, throwing the room into partial darkness. He clicked it again and the light flew back to the lamps. "Wicked."
After squinting at Ron for a moment or two, Scrimgeour turned back to Dumbledore's will.
"'To Hermione Jean Granger, I leave my copy of The Tales of Beedle the Bard, in the hope that she find it entertaining and instructive."
Scrimgeour reached into the bag once again and retrieved a small book, its binding stained and peeling in places. Hermione took it from Scrimgeour without a word. She held the book in her lap and gazed at it.
"Dad used to read me those," I commented with a small smile. "The Wizard and the Hopping Pot, The Fountain of Fair Fortune." (A/N: My fave.)
Harry and Hermione stared blankly at me. I understood as they both grew up in the Muggle world. Ron, on the other hand, looked surprised. "Come on. Babbity Rabbity. No?"
Scrimgeour eyed Ron with mild annoyance, then turned back to the will.
"'To Hazel Rebecca Rosewood,'" he read, and my insides contracted with a sudden excitement, "I leave the ashes of my bird, Fawkes in the hope that she uses it wisely when the time comes."
Scrimgeour pulled out a little rucksack and handed it over to me. I inspected it closely. I pulled loose the little drawstring and peered in, no doubt, there were ashes in them. So far my gift seemed pointless.
Scrimgeour turned to the will one last time. "To Harry James Potter," he glanced at Harry. "I leave the Snitch he caught in his first Quidditch match at Hogwarts as a reminder of the rewards of perseverance and skill."
Scrimgeour pulled out the tiny, walnut-sized golden ball holding it in in a cloth, as to not let any piece of skin touch it until it reached Harry's hands. Slowly, Harry reached out his hand to take the Snitch. Scrimgeour looked disappointed, as though he thought something extravagant was supposed to happen.
"Is that it then?" Harry asked.
"Not quite," replied Scrimgeour. "Dumbledore left you a second bequest." Scrimgeour did not bother to read from the will this time. "The sword of Godric Gryffindor. Unfortunately, the sword of Gryffindor was not Dumbledore's to give away. As an important historical artifact, it belongs—"
"To Harry," Hermione cut in. We all turned to look at her. "It belongs to Harry. It came to him when he most needed it in the Chamber of Secrets."
"The sword may present itself to any worthy Gryffindor, Miss Granger. That does not make it that wizard's property. And, in any event, the current whereabouts of the sword are unknown."
"Excuse me?" Ron asked.
"The Sword is missing. I don't know what you're up to, Mr. Potter, but you can't fight this war on your own. He is too strong." With that, Scrimgeour packed up his belongings and left the Burrow, apparating out of the front yard.
. . .
Later that night was the wedding. The reception was beautiful and Mrs. Weasley was in tears. When it was over, we had the after party. It was full of festivities and dancing. There were Aurors on the outside, guarding the place. Dad was able to pop in every once in awhile for some pumpkin juice. I brought my firewhiskey to my lips as I felt the burning sensation in the back of my throat. I gathered in the crowd of well-wishers to watch the dancing couple in the middle and clapped along to the music.
In the corner, Hagrid stood with Madam Maxime, Hagrid looking quite happy. Luna and her father were dancing by waving their arms around their heads like someone attempting to beat off midges.
Hermione stood by a table scanning her surroundings. I saw Ron, who was ignoring all, his eyes focused entirely on Hermione. I was soon approached by Tonks. She had a hand on her belly.
"Hello, Hazel," she smiled.
"Tonks! It's lovely to see you. I don't believe we've said a proper hello since we got here. How are you?"
"Wonderful! I haven't been able to tell many people the news but, I'm expecting!" she said with glee. I gasped.
"No!" I exclaimed with a smile. She nodded with a large grin.
"Tonks that amazing! You have to let me babysit," I insisted. "When's the baby due?"
"April next year."
Lupin walked up to us and wrapped an arm around his wife. "So you've told her the news?"
"And it's amazing! I wonder if the baby's going to be a metamorphogus! Oh, I'm so excited and it isn't even my baby!"
We all laughed.
"We will be sure to bring the baby over whenever we can," Tonks reassured.
"Oh you must," I nearly demanded. "I absolutely adore babies."
Suddenly, behind Tonks and Lupin, there was a ball of light that plummeted through the canopy. We all backed away and it began to speak. When it spoke, the Patronus had Kingsley Shacklebolt's sonorous voice.
"The Ministry has fallen. The Minister of Magic is dead. They are coming. They are coming."