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𝐃𝐎𝐖𝐍 𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐕𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐘

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a storm was coming

but that's not all she felt.

it was adventure on the wind

and it shivered down her spine.

Atticus

·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .

losing Mad-Eye hung over the house in the days that followed; Elara kept expecting to see him stumping in through the back door like the other Order members, who passed in and out to relay news.

Elara felt that nothing but action would assuage his feelings of grief and that she and Harry ought to set out on their mission to find and destroy Horcruxes as soon as possible.

'Well, you can't do anything about the –' Ron mouthed the word Horcruxes, ''til you're seventeen. You've still got the Trace on you. And we can plan here as well as anywhere, can't we? Or,' he dropped his voice to a whisper, 'd'you reckon you already know where the you-know-whats are?'

'No,' Harry admitted.

'I think Hermione's been doing a bit of research,' said Ron. 'She said she was saving it for when you got here.'

"When does Hermione not do research?" said Elara.

They were sitting at the breakfast table; Mr Weasley and Bill had just left for work, Mrs Weasley had gone upstairs to wake Hermione and Ginny, while Fleur had drifted off to take a bath.

'The Trace'll break on the thirty-first,' said Harry. 'That means I only need to stay here four days. Then Lara and I can –'

'Five days,' Ron corrected him firmly. 'We've got to stay for the wedding. They'll kill us if we miss it.'

Elara understood 'they' to mean Fleur and Mrs Weasley.

'It's one extra day,' said Elara, when Harry looked mutinous.

'Don't they realise how important –?'

' 'Course they don't,' said Elara. 'They haven't got a clue. Besides, you do not want to see a french woman when she's angry."

"And now you mention it, I wanted to talk to you two about that.'

Ron glanced towards the door into the hall to check that Mrs Weasley was not returning yet, then leaned in closer to Harry and Elara.

'Mum's been trying to get it out of Hermione and me. What we're off to do. She'll try you next, so brace yourself. Dad and Lupin've both asked as well, but when we said Dumbledore told you two not to tell anyone except us, they dropped it. Not Mum, though. She's determined.'

Ron's prediction came true within hours. Shortly before lunch, Mrs Weasley detached Elara from the others by asking her to help identify a lone sock that she thought might have come out of her rucksack. Once Mrs. Weasley had her cornered in the tiny scullery off the kitchen, she started.

'Ron and Hermione seem to think that the four of you are dropping out of Hogwarts,' she began in alight, casual tone.

'Oh,' said Elara. 'Well, yeah. We are.'

The mangle turned of its own accord in a corner, wringing out what looked like one of Mr Weasley's vests.

'May I ask why you are abandoning your education?' said Mrs Weasley.

'Well, Dumbledore Harry and I ... stuff to do,' said Elara. 'Ron and Hermione know about it, and they want to come too.'

'What sort of "stuff "?'

'I'm sorry, I can't –'

'Well, frankly, I think Arthur and I have a right to know, and I'm sure Mr and Mrs Granger would agree!' said Mrs Weasley.

Elara had been afraid of the 'concerned parent' attack. She forced herself to look directly into Mrs. Weasley's eyes. This did not help.

'Dumbledore didn't want anyone else to know, Mrs Weasley. I'm sorry. Ron and Hermione don't have to come, it's their choice –'

'I don't see that you have to go, either!' she snapped, dropping all pretence now. 'You're barely of age, any of you! It's utter nonsense, if Dumbledore needed work doing, he had the whole Order at his command! Elara, you must have misunderstood him. Probably he was telling you something he wanted done, and you took it to mean that he wanted you –'

'I didn't misunderstand,' said Elara flatly. 'It's got to be me and Harry.'

Elara handed her back the single sock she was supposed to be identifying, which was patterned with golden bulrushes.

'And that's not mine, I don't like Quidditch much.'

'Oh, of course not,' said Mrs Weasley, with a sudden and rather unnerving return to her casual tone. 'I should have realised. Well, Elara, while we've still got you here, you won't mind helping with the preparations for Bill and Fleur's wedding, will you? There's still so much to do.'

'No – I – of course not,' said Elara, disconcerted by this sudden change of subject.

'Sweet of you,' she replied, and she smiled as she left the scullery.

From that moment on, Mrs Weasley kept Elara, Harry, Ron and Hermione so busy with preparations for the wedding that they hardly had time to think. The kindest explanation of this behaviour would have been that Mrs Weasley wanted to distract them all from thoughts of Mad-Eye, and the terrors of their recent journey.

After two days of non-stop cutlery cleaning, of colour-matching favours, ribbons and flowers, of de-gnoming the garden and helping Mrs Weasley cook vast batches of canapés, however, Elara started to suspect her of a different motive. All the jobs she handed out seemed to keep her, Harry, Ron, and Hermione away from one another; she had not had a chance to speak to the three of them, alone, since the first night, when she and Harry had told them about Voldemort torturing Ollivander.

'I think Mum thinks that if she can stop the four of you getting together and planning, she'll be able to delay you leaving,' Ginny told Elara in an undertone, as they laid the table for dinner on the third night of her stay.

'And then what does she think's going to happen?' Elara muttered. 'Someone else might kill off Voldemort while she's holding us here making vol-au-vents?'

She had spoken without thinking, and saw Ginny's face whiten.

'So it's true?' she said. 'That's what you're trying to do?'

'I – not – I was joking,' said Elara evasively.

Elara began setting the table faster, determinedly not looking at Ginny. Both of them jumped as the door opened, and Mr Weasley, Kingsley and Bill walked in. They were often joined by other Order members for dinner now, because The Burrow had replaced number twelve, Grimmauld Place as the Headquarters.

Mr Weasley had explained that after the death of Dumbledore, their Secret Keeper, each of the people to whom Dumbledore had confided Grimmauld Place's location had become a Secret Keeper in turn.

'And as there are around twenty of us, that greatly dilutes the power of the Fidelius Charm. Twenty times as many opportunities for the Death Eaters to get the secret out of somebody. We can't expect it to hold much longer.'

'But surely Snivellous will have told the Death Eaters the address by now?' asked Elara.

'Well, Mad-Eye set up a couple of curses against Snape in case he turns up there again. We hope they'll be strong enough both to keep him out and to bind his tongue if he tries to talk about the place, but we can't be sure. It would have been insane to keep using the place as Headquarters now that its protection has become so shaky.'

The kitchen was so crowded that evening it was difficult to manoeuvre knives and forks. Elara found herself crammed beside Harry; she smiled as she felt a little energy return. Their sides and legs were pushed together.

'No news about Mad-Eye?' Harry asked Bill.

'Nothing,' replied Bill.

They had not been able to hold a funeral for Moody, because Bill and Lupin had failed to recover his body. It had been difficult to know where he might have fallen, given the darkness and the confusion of the battle.

'The Daily Prophet hasn't said a word about him dying, or about finding the body,' Bill went on. 'But that doesn't mean much. It's keeping a lot quiet these days.'

'And they still haven't called a hearing about all the under-age magic I used escaping the Death Eaters?' Harry called across the table to Mr Weasley, who shook his head. 'Because they know I had no choice or because they don't want me to tell the world Voldemort attacked me?'

'The latter, I think. Scrimgeour doesn't want to admit that You-Know-Who is as powerful as he is, nor that Azkaban's seen a mass breakout.'

'Yeah, why tell the public the truth?' said Elara, clenching her knife so tightly that the faint scars on the back of her right hand stood out, white against her skin: I must not disrespect. "One of these days, I am going to overthrow the government."

"I'll help!" said Aurora from all the way across the table.

'Isn't anyone at the Ministry prepared to stand up to him?' asked Ron angrily.

'Of course, Ron, but people are terrified,' Mr Weasley replied, 'terrified that they will be next to disappear, their children the next to be attacked! There are nasty rumours going round; I, for one, don't believe the Muggle Studies professor at Hogwarts resigned. She hasn't been seen for weeks now. Meanwhile, Scrimgeour remains shut up in his office all day: I just hope he's working on a plan.'

"Every Minister we've ever had had been useless," said Elara, pointing her knife at Hermione, "If you don't become Minister of Magic, I will be overthrowing all forms of government everywhere."

Hermione smiled sheepishly as Harry plucked the knife from Elara's hand.

There was a pause in which Mrs Weasley magicked the empty plates on to the side, and served apple tart.

'We must decide 'ow you two will be disguised, 'Arry and Lara,' said Fleur, once everyone had pudding. 'For ze wedding,' she added, when they looked confused. 'Of course, none of our guests are Death Eaters, but we cannot guarantee zat zey will not let something slip after zey 'ave 'ad champagne.'

From this, Elara gathered that she still suspected Hagrid.

'Yes, good point,' said Mrs Weasley from the top of the table, where she sat, spectacles perched on the end of her nose, scanning an immense list of jobs that she had scribbled on a very long piece of parchment.

'Now, Ron, have you cleaned out your room yet?'

'Why?' exclaimed Ron, slamming his spoon down and glaring at his mother. 'Why does my room have to be cleaned out? Harry and I are fine with it the way it is!'

'We are holding your brother's wedding here in a few days' time, young man –'

'And are they getting married in my bedroom?' asked Ron furiously. 'No! So why in the name of Merlin's saggy left –'

Elara had chosen a terrible moment to drink her Butterbeer, and it flew back into her cup.

'Don't talk to your mother like that,' said Mr Weasley firmly. 'And do as you're told.'

Ron scowled at both his parents, then picked up his spoon and attacked the last few mouthfuls of his apple tart.

'I can help, some of it's my mess,' Harry told Ron, but Mrs Weasley cut across him.

'No, Harry, dear, I'd much rather you helped Arthur muck out the chickens, and Hermione, I'd be ever so grateful if you'd change the sheets for Monsieur and Madame Delacour, you know they're arriving at eleven tomorrow morning. Elara, dear, we need to get you fitted for your dress.'

"My dress?"

"You are supposed to be doing a light show, 'Lara," said Fleur.

"When did this happen?"

"I forgot to tell you, zen!" said Fleur excitedly, standing up from her place at the table, "Let us go!"

"Now?"

"Yes, now!"

Deciding it was best not to anger Fleur so close to her wedding day, Elara pushed her seat back and quickly followed after Fleur, who was moving so fast she seemed to be floating up the stairs. Fleur's room was perfectly neat. There was a brilliant dress hanging from a wardrobe.

The bottom was a fiery orange that shimmered as Elara touched it. The brilliant color faded up into a dark navy blue and then into a sky blue. The extra tulle draped down to the ground, reflecting the same fade of colors.

"I thought it would be perfect!" said Fleur excitedly, gazing at the dress.

"You don't think. . . I would be showing you up?"

Fleur laughed.

"I zink not! My dress is from the most famous tailor in all of France!"

Elara smiled, still staring at the dress.

"Wouldn't people know it was me if I was using fire? Aren't I supposed to be disguised?"

"Well, yes, but maybe eet ees possible to do hold your wand and do it?"

Elara nodded.

"Zank you!" said Fleur excitedly, throwing her arms around Elara and pulling her into the tightest hug she'd ever recevied.

Later, she slipped by, undetected, from Mrs. Weasley and hurried up the stairs to Ron's room. Every adult she passed, she made a show of yawning, acting like she was going to sleep.

She opened the door.

"Knock, knock."

"People usually say that when they knock," said Ron.

Hermione was sitting in the far corner, her fluffy ginger cat Crookshanks at her feet, sorting books, some of which Elara recognised as her own, into two enormous piles.

'Hi, Lara,' she said, as Elara sat down next to Harry on his camp bed.

'And how did you manage to get away?'

'Oh, Ron's mum forgot that she asked Ginny and me to change the sheets yesterday,' said Hermione.

She threw Numerology and Grammatica on to one pile and The Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts on to the other.

'We were just talking about Mad-Eye,' Ron told Elara. 'I reckon he might have survived.'

'But Bill saw him hit by the Killing Curse,' said Elara.

'Yeah, but Bill was under attack too,' said Ron. 'How can he be sure what he saw?'

'Even if the Killing Curse missed, Mad-Eye still fell about a thousand feet,' said Hermione, now weighing Quidditch Teams of Britain and Ireland in her hand.

'He could have used a Shield Charm –'

'Fleur said his wand was blasted out of his hand,' said Harry.

'Well, all right, if you want him to be dead,' said Ron grumpily, punching his pillow into a more comfortable shape.

'Of course we don't want him to be dead!' said Hermione, looking shocked. 'It's dreadful that he's dead! But we're being realistic!'

For the first time, Elara imagined Mad-Eye's body, broken as Dumbledore's had been, yet with tha tone eye still whizzing in its socket. She felt a stab of revulsion mixed with a bizarre desire to laugh.

'The Death Eaters probably tidied up after themselves, that's why no one's found him,' said Ron wisely.

'Yeah,' said Elara. 'Like Barty Crouch, turned into a bone and buried in Hagrid's front garden. They probably Transfigured Moody and stuffed him –'

'Don't!' squealed Hermione.

Startled, Elara looked over just in time to see her burst into tears over her copy of Spellman's Syllabary.

'Oh, no,' said Elara, struggling to get up from the old camp bed. 'Hermione, I wasn't trying to upset–'

But with a great creaking of rusty bedsprings Ron bounded off the bed and got there first. One arm around Hermione, he fished in his jeans pocket and withdrew a revolting-looking handkerchief that he had used to clean out the oven earlier.

Hastily pulling out his wand, he pointed it at the rag and said, 'Tergeo.'

The wand siphoned off most of the grease. Looking rather pleased with himself, Ron handed the slightly smoking handkerchief to Hermione.

'Oh ... thanks, Ron ... I'm sorry ...' She blew her nose and hiccoughed. 'It's just so awf – ful, isn't it? R – Right after Dumbledore ... I j – just n – never imagined Mad-Eye dying, somehow, he seemed so tough!'

'Yeah, I know,' said Ron, giving her a squeeze. 'But you know what he'd say to us if he was here?'

'"C – Constant vigilance",' said Hermione, mopping her eyes.

'That's right,' said Ron, nodding. 'He'd tell us to learn from what happened to him. And what I've learned is not to trust that cowardly little squit Mundungus.'

Hermione gave a shaky laugh and leaned forwards to pick up two more books. A second later, Ron had snatched his arm back from around her shoulders; she had dropped The Monster Book of Monsters on his foot. The book had broken free from its restraining belt and snapped viciously at Ron's ankle.

'I'm sorry, I'm sorry!' Hermione cried, as Harry wrenched the book from Ron's leg and retied it shut, all while Elara was crying with laughter.

'What are you doing with all those books, anyway?' Ron asked, limping back to his bed.

'Just trying to decide which ones to take with us,' said Hermione. 'When we're looking for the Horcruxes.'

'Oh, of course,' said Ron, clapping a hand to his forehead. 'I forgot we'll be hunting down Voldemort in a mobile library.'

'Ha ha,' said Hermione, looking down at Spellman's Syllabary. 'I wonder ... will we need to translate runes? It's possible ... I think we'd better take it, to be safe.'

She dropped the syllabary on to the larger of the two piles and picked up Hogwarts: A History.

'Listen,' said Harry.

He had sat up straight. Ron and Hermione looked at him with similar mixtures of resignation and defiance. Elara groaned. This again.

'I know you said, after Dumbledore's funeral, that you wanted to come with me,' Harry began.

'Here he goes,' Ron said to Hermione, rolling his eyes.