Rita moved slowly, lifting up a tree branch, aiming her camera, and capturing one of the most horrifying images she had ever seen.
The entire graveyard was being swallowed in a sea of black as the dementors swept through it. It was only her little silver seagull, perched on the branch in front of her, that kept their icy, desolate aura from overwhelming her.
Rita had been to Azkaban a few times, to interview people. She'd seen the dead, uncaring looks in the eyes of those that had had all of their hope sucked away.
Not to mention her own time within those uncaring walls.
She could see the figures of the Order of the Phoenix, fleeing with their silver patroni.
She would flee too, if the Dark Lord hadn't told her to be here. He'd decided to fight words with words. Images with images.
She captured another picture, telling the camera to zoom in on Sirius Black, apparating out two shell-shocked and injured wizards.
She'd give the Dark Lord the images he desired. Showing his strength as he faced down the entire Order of the Phoenix. She'd give him pictures of dementors swarming over the dead and living alike.
But he'd never know of her other photographs.
She snapped an image of the two Black sisters standing beside their large, silvery patroni as they searched for any more survivors.
This had been such a stupid plan. The death toll was so high - on both sides. But she knew now why it had all happened.
The Dark Lord was a fool. Thinking the Order was stupid enough to let the Ministry hold such a public funeral for Albus Dumbledore without an ulterior motive.
Granted, the Order was foolish as well. They had underestimated the Dark Lord. There should have been more wards, more guards, more protections for all the innocents that were slain.
It made her sick, thinking back on all she had seen that day. All the images she had caught.
Rita knew better than to think that the Order would take the blame though. No, Rufus Scrimgeour had died this day and he had been Minister of Magic. All blame would be laid at his feet, and no one would raise a voice to save his reputation. He would be remembered as a foolish, overconfident hero of the wizarding world.
And, much as she liked to destroy images, Rita would let this one slide.
She had bigger fish to fry.
A few more shots of the graveyard and she tapped the camera with her wand, closing it up and sending it back into her bag.
She was about done here.
After a quick look at her grandfather's old gold watch she slipped into her animagus form and slipped off the branch, her little seagull following faithfully.
There was no way she was letting it go away yet. Not with all those newborn dementors nearby.
She really wished the Dark Lord hadn't found that terrible room at the Ministry when he decided to go after the prophecy himself. Still, the discovery of that room had helped balance out his anger at finding the prophecy gone.
You win some, you lose some.
A low moan, so quiet she barely picked it up with her antennae, slipped through the air.
Curious, and with a bit of time to spare, she turned in the air and landed on the trunk of a thick oak tree. Scurrying around, she found the source of the moan.
A Weasley.
He was in bad shape as well.
His left foot was bent the wrong way and she could see a bit of bone poking out. There was blood trickling down his neck from somewhere on his skull.
She studied his face and flipped back through her memories, searching for a reference.
Hadn't she just seen him? He'd been with a dark-haired, Asian wizard. They'd been surrounded and kissed by the dementors, she'd caught it on camera.
Not for the Dark Lord, no, for her own book. She wanted to clearly show the atrocities that Tom Riddle committed.
That meant this boy was as good as dead. Without a soul...
She opened her casing, raising her wings to take off once more, but a thought crossed her mind.
What happened to the Asian man?
She stopped, looking around.
Wait.
The Weasley's had a pair of twins. Was this boy one of the twins?
And, if so, what should she do?
Should she leave him here to die? Because that was certainly what would happen to him. Either from his injuries or from a dementor. The Dark Lord had no plans to call the dementors back to him, he was setting them free to roam and cause chaos as best they could.
No one would know if she left him. No one could blame her for leaving him.
She had just enough time to get to the dead drop spot and see what Narcissa had left her. If she took too long the Dark Lord would notice. He'd wonder why - and that could make him examine her mind more closely.
She didn't want that.
Giving the Weasley one last look she pushed off of the tree trunk and began flying away.
Halfway to the dead drop she turned around, cursing herself with every single inappropriate word she could come up with.
Narcissa and her bloody instructions would have to wait.
So would the Dark Lord.
There had been enough death and destruction today. She wasn't going to let one more life slip away just because-
"Well, well, what do we have here?"
Alecto Carrow stood over the Weasley boy, her brother, Amycus Carrow, beside her.
"Why, sister dear, I do think you've found a new toy. I wonder if he can dance," Amycus said cruelly.
The Weasley twisted on the ground and tried to sit up, his movements jerky and uncoordinated. "No-"
"Crucio!" Alecto shouted gleefully.
The boy screamed, tossing on the ground, throwing up clumps of dirk as his fingers formed claws and dug at the dirt.
Rita had seen enough. She'd never liked the Carrows. And - if she really thought about it - there wasn't much more information she could get from being in the Dark Lord's employ. She had a feeling that, good or ill, the end was coming soon.
And if the Dark Lord won she'd rather die than commit atrocities like this one.
She dismissed her little seagull and settled down behind the large oak tree before shifting back into her human form.
Taking a deep breath she twirled her wand and circled the tree.
"Skeeter!" Amycus cried upon seeing her. "What are you doing here?"
Rita reached into her bag and pulled out the camera. "Capturing moments for the Dark Lord. Would you mind if I capture this little moment?"
Alecto stopped torturing the Weasley and the twins looked at each other for a moment.
A chill ran down Rita's spine and she could see a herd of dementors breaking away and coming towards them. The stupid Carrows didn't even have a patronus up.
She rather suspected they were incapable of making one.
"Fine," Alecto snapped, "but make it quick."
"Alright."
Rita lined up camera, being sure to clearly show the Carrow twins standing over Weasley with the dementors approaching in the background.
She waited timing it carefully and turning up the flash as high as it would go.
"Say, pureblood!" She called cheerfully, forcing out her most Lockhart like smile.
"Pureblood!" the Carrows said.
Rita squeezed her eyes shut and clicked the shutter.
CLICK!
The Carrows shouted in agony as they suddenly found themselves blinded. Rita quickly dropped the camera back in her bag, grabbed her wand out of her pocket and crouched down, taking one of the hands of the poor, broken boy.
Icy cold filled the air and she shivered.
"Rita, you'll have to make your own dinner tonight."
"Why can't you just grow up, Rita?"
"Sorry, dear, we'll see you tomorrow."
"No, you're not going anywhere this summer. Your grandparents are dead."
Hot tears poured down her cheeks. She could feel them stinging her eyes and calling her out of that place dementors made her go. She wasn't that lost little girl anymore. Her grandparents may be gone, but so were her parents.
The reminder that her parents were just as dead as her grandparents gave her the strength to gather her mind and apparate away - leaving the Carrows to their fate.
XXX
The world was nothing but torture for Fred. Every inch of his body gave him nothing but pain and every ounce of his soul called out in despair.
Why couldn't he just die?
If he strained he could feel George there, on the other side, just out of reach.
All it would take was-
"Oh, no you don't!"
A force yanked at him, pulling him away from George. He tried to cry out in fury, but it was nothing more than a squeak.
"I DID NOT save you and give up my place in the Dark Lord's circle just to let you die! Do you understand me, Mr. Weasley?"
It was the last two words that drew him up out of that well of torture.
Mr. Weasley?
What did his father have to do with anything?
He strained, forcing his eyes open. At first all he could see was a blinding light. His mind instantly went towards all those old jokes about a light at the end of a tunnel.
"That's a good sign. You opened your eyes. Now, are you going to talk?"
He blinked rapidly, forcing the world to come into view.
The face that filled his vision was one of the last faces he had expected to see.
"Sk-Sk-Skeeter?" he croaked.
She nodded, "Good, you have a mind still. Here, take some water." She waved her wand and he felt himself pulled into a sitting position as a glass of water hovered in front of his lips, waiting for him to take it.
"Now, I know how these things go. Here are the answers to your questions. You're safe. For now. We're hiding out in an old house I inherited from my muggle grandparents. The house is technically still in my mother's name as I wasn't born in the muggle world like she was. Between that and my simple protections we're about as safe as we can be. You've been asleep for about a week now. I've been keeping an eye on the outside world, but things aren't looking good. The Dark Lord went on a rampage over in Little Hangleton yesterday. Even the muggles noticed and they're all on edge. The Ministry of Magic is a mess, no one's in control. Well, that's not quite right. The aurors have all teamed up with the Order of the Phoenix, who seems to be running the show. I'm out of touch with Narcissa, so all I know is what the public does."
Fred finished drinking the glass of water, realizing as he drained the last drop that he should have been more suspicious.
Still, Mrs. Malfoy had had someone working for her in the Death Eaters. Skeeter made a lot of sense. He knew that, like Lockhart, she hadn't gone out of her way to take the Mark.
"Where's my bag? Did you find it?"
She looked at him curiously for a moment. "I found a small drawstring bag, but it was sealed. What's in it?"
"Something I can use to contact Harry and Hermione. Only we-" he stopped and cleared his throat, tears burning his eyes, "-I can open it. It's tied to my family magic."
That glint appeared in Skeeter's eyes - the one that had made her such a successful journalist. "Tied to family magic? Then shouldn't your other siblings be able to open it? You are a pureblood after all."
Fred weighed the value of the information and then shrugged, tossing it out as a freebie for her saving him.
It wasn't a thought he wanted to look back on, but he did remember those two Death Eaters torturing him before Skeeter apparated away with him. He was under no illusions, he knew they would have killed him if Skeeter hadn't saved him, and - much as he wanted to join George - now that he was awake he knew that he couldn't yet. He had to avenge his brother. Had to tell the others that Voldemort had the Deathstick.
"My mother never bound her magic. All of us have a solid mixing of Weasley and Prewett magic. It's why we're all so different. Mrs. Malfoy also thinks it explains why there are so many of us. Though Percy disagrees, apparently Weasleys have always tended towards large numbers of children. A possible part of the family magic."
Skeeter's expression grew speculative and Fred could just hear the wheels turning there as she tried to find a way to use this information.
He sighed, "Can I please have my bag now?"
She nodded absently, reaching into her own bag and drawing out his. He had to wonder just how a bag with infinite space fit inside of a bag with finite space. Luna or Hermione would know, he was sure of it. Maybe there was a product....
He wrenched his mind away from that thought. Now was not the time for that.
The journal snapped into his hand, the little travel quill pressing into his fingers.
Forge: New Marauders, I'm alive.
It took a moment, and Fred could feel Skeeter staring down at the journal, though he didn't look up at her. His heart was in his throat and his eyes burned as he saw his name merged with George's.
King: FRED!
Ginger: DAMN iT FRED! I THOUGHT WE LOST YOU TOO!
Moon: I knew you were still here.
Apple: I'm so sorry.
Prongslet: Thank Merlin.
Dragon: We're so glad to hear from you.
Phoenix: Where are you?
Grass: Glad to hear it.
Snake: Ready to kill some Death Eaters?
Forge: Yes and I'm with the Beetle. She rescued me from the Death Eaters. We're hiding someplace. I just woke up. I think I'm all healed up, though my entire body is sore.
"That's a side effect of the potions. I'm afraid most of them were rather out of date, though they still worked. Your bone is no longer poking out of your ankle," Skeeter said pointedly.
Fred rolled his eyes.
Prongslet: We've learned something terrible since the funeral. The entire thing was an elaborate plot to get Voldemort to reveal his last horcrux. They listed a few and then hoped that they could track him to whatever one they missed. Dumbledore never told them it was the snake. If he even knew. If I had just shared the information about the horcrux in me-
Phoenix: Don't you dare start this again! It's not our fault they want to treat us like ignorant children! Now, Forge, pay attention. You too, Beetle. I'm sure you're reading over his shoulder you nosy little-
Snake: What Death Eaters? What did she do to them?
"The Carrow Twins, and I left them to have their souls sucked out by dementors," Skeeter said.
Forge: The Carrows. She let Voldemort's dementors kiss them.
Snake: Good. Tell the Beetle we're even now. Her debt to me and mine is paid. Alecto Carrow is the one that cursed me at Malfoy Manor.
"You see that?" Fred asked Skeeter. The woman nodded and he turned back to the journal.
King: Voldemort already went after the ring at Little Hangleton. He knows the snake is safe, so he's likely coming to Hogwarts for the diadem. The Order was 'nice' enough to warn us they found a horcrux here. But they think he'll check it last. Won't let us get a word in edgewise and we can't put it in a letter.
Dragon: The Cat won't listen to us. She's treating us like idiot first years. Grass' mum isn't here right now, either. She's off with the Order. The Snake King is proving to be remarkably slippery. We can't get him in private to talk. We could run off to the Order, but Phoenix says the danger is too great for Prongslet. We need you to go to the Order and tell them what's really going on. Tell them about the accidental horcrux.
Prongslet: And how it's gone. That we have to kill that snake to kill Voldemort. We're counting on you Forge.
King: More than counting on you. We miss you.
Ginger: We love you brother, and remember - you're not alone. Not now, not ever. Got it?
Fred's eyes swam with tears and he could barely see the page, but that didn't stop his quill from moving.
Forge: got it