dumbledore knocked three times and elara saw sudden movement behind the kitchen window.

"who's there?" said a nervous voice she recognized as mrs. weasley's. "declare yourself!"

"it is i, dumbledore, bringing elara and harry."

the door opened at once. there stood mrs. weasley, short, plump, and wearing an old green dressing gown.

"harry, lara, dears! gracious, albus, you gave me a fright, you said not to expect you before morning!"

"we were lucky," said dumbledore, ushering the pair over the threshold. "slughorn proved much more persuadable than i had expected. elara's and harry's doing, of course. ah, hello, nymphadora!"

elara looked around and saw that mrs. weasley was not alone, 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.

"nymphie?!" said elara excitedly, flying to meet her sister.

"hello, professor," said nymphie over elara's shoulder. "wotcher, harry."

"hi, tonks."

elara pulled away to find her sister looking drawn, even ill, and there was something forced in her smile. certainly her appearance was less colorful than usual without her customary shade of bubble-gum-pink hair.

"i'd better be off," she said quickly, standing up and pulling her cloak around her shoulders. "thanks for the tea and sympathy, molly."

"please don't leave on my account," said dumbledore courteously, "i cannot stay, i have urgent matters to discuss with rufus scrimgeour."

"no, no, i need to get going," said tonks, not meeting dumbledore's eyes.

" 'night —"

"dear, why not come to dinner at the weekend, remus and mad-eye are coming — ?"

"no, really, molly . . . thanks anyway . . . good night, everyone.

nymphie hurried past dumbledore, elara, and harry into the yard; a few paces beyond the doorstep, she turned on the spot and vanished into thin air. elara noticed that mrs. weasley looked troubled.

"well, i shall see you two at hogwarts," said dumbledore. "take care of yourself. molly, your servant."

he made mrs. weasley a bow and followed nymphie, vanishing at precisely the same spot. mrs. weasley closed the door on the empty yard and then steered elara and harry by the shoulder into the full glow of the lantern on the table to examine their appearances.

"you're like ron," she sighed, looking harry up and down. "both 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. and elara, you've gotten much slimmer and toned. did anya treat you well?"

"how does everyone know who anya is — "

"are you two hungry?"

"yeah, i am," said harry.

"yes," said elara excitedly, suddenly realizing how hungry she was.

"sit down, dear, i'll knock something up."

as elara and harry sat down, a furry ginger cat with a squashed face jumped onto elara's knees and settled there, purring.

"so hermione's here?" asked elara happily as she tickled crookshanks behind the ears.

"oh yes, she arrived the day before yesterday," said mrs. weasley, 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 —"

she tapped the pot again; it rose into the air, flew toward elara and harry, and tipped over; mrs. weasley slid two bowls neatly beneath it just in time to catch the stream of thick, steaming onion soup.

"bread, dear?"

"yes, please," said elara.

"thanks, mrs. weasley," said harry

she 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 persuaded horace slughorn to take the job?"

they nodded, their mouths so full of hot soup that they could not speak.

"he taught arthur and me," said mrs. weasley. "he was at hogwarts for ages, started around the same time as dumbledore, i think. did you like him?"

her mouth now full of bread, elara shrugged and harry gave a non-committal jerk of the head.

"i know what you mean," said mrs. weasley, 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 favorites, 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 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.

elara swallowed a large amount of very hot soup and thought she could feel her throat blistering. "that's great!" she gasped.

"congratulations!" said harry, looking like he had scalded his throat too.

"you two are sweet," beamed mrs. weasley, possibly taking their 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!"

"what exactly — ?"

"well, you see, 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 sneakoscopes 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 they had suggesting that it was natural to miss spark plugs.

"is mr. weasley still at work?" Harry asked.

"yes, he is. 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. elara recognized it at once: it had 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."

"it's been like that for a while now," said mrs. weasley, 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. mr. weasley's hand had switched to "traveling."

"he's coming!"

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, "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 . . ."

"molly!"

"all right, all right . . . what is your dearest ambition?"

"to find out how airplanes stay up."

elara bit back the urge to yell it out. 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!"

"arthur, really, this is just silly. . . ."

"what do you like me to call you when we're alone together?"

even by the dim light of the lantern elara could tell that mrs. weasley had turned bright red; elara hastily gulped soup, clattering her spoon as loudly as she could against the bowl. harry did the same.

"mollywobbles," whispered a mortified mrs. weasley into the crack at the edge of the door.

"correct," said mr. weasley. "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," said mrs. weasley, 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 turned hopefully in the direction of the table. "elara, harry! we didn't expect you two until morning!"

they shook hands, and mr. weasley dropped into the chair beside harry as mrs. weasley set a bowl of soup in front of him too. "thanks, molly. it's been a tough night. dome idiot's 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!"

"really?" said elara, mid-sip.

"and what really happens when you put them on?"

"mostly you just turn a fairly unpleasant orange color, but a couple of people have also sprouted tentaclelike 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," said mrs. weasley hesitantly. "are you sure — ?"

"of course i am!" said mr. weasley. "the boys wouldn't do anything like that now, not when people are desperate for protection! besides, aurora would never let them. she's a mini-version of you now, molly. aurora even let her mum teach her how to cook."

"so is that why you're late, metamorph-medals?"

"no, we got wind of a nasty backfiring jinx down in elephant and castle, but luckily the magical law enforcement squad had sorted it out by the time we got there. . . ."

elara stifled a yawn behind her hand.

"bed," said an undeceived mrs. weasley at once. "elara, you're in ginny's room with hermione. i've got fred and george's room all ready for you, harry, you'll have it to yourself. you two can stay together, no funny business."

"mrs. weasley," said elara, "pre marital eye contact is a sin, i would never."

she looked as if she was trying to suppress a smile.

"why, where are they?" said harry, clearly trying to steer away from an awkward conversation.

"oh, they're in diagon alley, sleeping in the little flat over their joke shop as they're so busy," said mrs. weasley. "i must say, i didn't approve at first, but they do seem to have a bit of a flair for business! come on, dears, your trunks' already up there."

"'night, mr. weasley," said elara, pushing back her chair. crookshanks leapt lightly from her lap and slunk out of the room. harry followed suit.

"g'night, harry, elara," said mr. weasley.

elara saw mrs. weasley glance at the clock in the washing basket as they left the kitchen. all the hands were once again at "mortal peril."

"i might take a shower, if that's all right," said elara, feeling sweaty and slightly icky.

"of course," said mrs. weasley, "you know where to find it, dear."

elara nodded and wandered off farther down the second floor to find a small bathroom with an even smaller shower. luckily, there were still bath products. a few were clearly fred and george's, as they were three in one bath wash, shampoo, and conditioner, but some looked like ginny's or maybe aurora's, elara couldn't tell.

aurora's hair was just as wild as elara's, so she selected the strawberry-coconut curly shampoo.

when elara was finished, she stepped out the shower and spotted scissors lying on the counter. she knew she shouldn't, and that she could just metamorphose her hair shorter, but something just seemed right about hacking her hair to her shoulders.

impulsively, elara grabbed the scissors of the counter and began snipping away at her hair. with each lock of curly hair that fell to the ground, she felt better. lighter, almost. she didn't do a horrible job, either. it looked nice.

fred and george's bedroom was on the second floor. the ignited lamp bathed 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 what elara thought was gunpowder. a considerable amount of floor space was devoted to a vast number of unmarked, sealed cardboard boxes, amongst which stood harry's school trunk. the room looked as though it was being used as a temporary warehouse.

harry was sitting up against wall behind one of the beds, reading a newspaper by the lamp light. he looked up when a floorboard elara had stepped on creaked.

"you'd be a terrible auror," said elara amusedly.

"you cut your hair? and hey, not my — is that my shirt?"

"yeah," said elara, looking down at the buttoned flannel that almost reached her knees, "i guess it is. you're not getting it back, either."

"hey, i'm not complaining," said harry almost slyly, "and what about your hair?"

"it just felt right," said elara, shrugging, "i could have just changed it, but cutting it felt more appropriate. i'm not sure why."

"it looks badass," said harry, tossing the newspaper on the other bed.

"i'm glad you think so," said elara, smiling.

harry pushed himself off the bed and he moved towards elara. finally happy to be alone with harry, she smiled. she missed this. she wrapped her arms around harry's neck as he bent his head down to kiss her.

as he smiled into the kiss, harry lifted elara up and threw her onto the bed without warning.

"you're really going to start something?" said elara playfully, flinging a pillow at harry, who caught it.

"you're all talk," said harry, climbing back onto the bed beside elara.

his arms snaked around her waist, pulling her closer to him. elara struggled jokingly, but harry refused to break his hold. they lay there together, talking about everything the other had missed while they were away farther into the night.

"i could kill you, you know," said elara before she fell asleep as they were discussing how the triwizard tournament would have gone differently if elara's name was pulled.

"i know," said harry, yawning too.

seconds later, or so it seemed to elara, she was awakened by what sounded like cannon fire as the door burst open. sitting bolt upright, she heard the rasp of the curtains being pulled back: the dazzling sunlight seemed to poke her hard in both eyes.

"what the hell — "

"wuzzgoinon?" said harry groggily, squinting around

"we didn't know you were — oh, oh merlin! you —"

"no, ron! we just fell asleep!" explained elara almost automatically.

"oh, good," said ron, "i am not ready to be an uncle."

"jesus christ."

"what?" said harry.

elara found his glasses on the nightstand.

"ron, don't be inappropriate!" said hermione reproachfully.

harry finally shoved on his glasses; though he blinked for a solid thirty seconds after.

"all right?" said ron.

"doing great," said elara.

"never been better," said harry, slumping back onto his pillows. "you?"

"not bad," said ron, pulling over a cardboard box and sitting on it. "when did you two get here? mum's only just told us!"

"about one o'clock this morning."

"how did your training go, lara? were the muggles all right, harry? did they treat you okay?"

"same as usual," said harry, as hermione perched herself on the edge of the bed, "they didn't talk to me much, but i like it better that way."

"training was actually kind of fun," said elara, "anyways, how're you, hermione?"

"oh, i'm fine," said hermione, who was scrutinizing elara and harry as though they were sickening for something. she thought she knew what was behind this, and as she had no wish to discuss sirius's death or any other miserable subject at the moment, she said, "what's the time? have i missed breakfast?"

"don't worry about that, mum's bringing up trays; she reckons you look underfed, harry. she didn't say anything about you too, for once, lara," said ron, rolling his eyes. "so, what's been going on?"

"nothing much, actually," said elara nonchalantly.

"nothing much, i've just been stuck at my aunt and uncle's, haven't i?"