LUCY:

Before we knew it, September was upon us.

I'd heard no news of Henry and Archie, and neither had the twins. As much as I tried to abide by the "no news is good news" mantra those days — as much as I tried to find comfort in the fact that I had not heard so much as a whisper about their capture, or worse — I began to understand what the twins meant when they said that hearing from me at all was good, no matter what I had to say. I checked in daily, when everyone else was busy, just to ask if they'd heard anything and to report that I had not.

I was certain that the others wouldn't mind the fact that I was in contact with Fred and George, but I didn't really feel the need to inform anyone about it, either. If the twins ever offered information that I felt the need to share, I would share it, but in the meantime, I thought it prudent to keep my worries to myself so we could all try to focus on the task at hand: breaking into the Ministry.

On the first of September, rather than rushing off to get on the train, I woke up and made my way downstairs to share a lazy and bountiful breakfast with Harry, Ron, and Hermione in our pajamas, since Snape was presumably returning to Hogwarts that day and thus no longer posed as direct of a threat to us. Once we'd eaten, Harry got dressed and donned the invisibility cloak and left for the Ministry, while I looked over the break-in plans with Ron and Hermione.

When Harry returned that evening, he was holding a copy of the Daily Prophet. "I've got news, and you won't like it."

Anxiety spiking, I summoned the newspaper out of his hand and spread it on the table, terrified that I'd be greeted by bad news about Henry and Archie. Instead, I found myself staring at the face of Snivellus, larger than life on the front page, beneath the headline SEVERUS SNAPE CONFIRMED AS HOGWARTS HEADMASTER.

I gasped. "No!"

Hermione rushed to my side and began to read the article aloud. "'Severus Snape, long-standing Potions master at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, was today appointed headmaster in the most important of several staffing changes at the ancient school. Following the resignation of the previous Muggle Studies teacher, Alecto Carrow will take over the post while her brother, Amycus, fills the position of Defense Against the Dark Arts professor. 'I welcome the opportunity to uphold our finest wizarding traditions and values?' Like committing murder and cutting off people's ears, I suppose! Snape, headmaster! Snape in Dumbledore's study — Merlin's pants!"

With that, Hermione jumped up and sprinted away, calling over her shoulder that she'd be back in a minute.

Ron snorted. "If Hermione's saying something like 'Merlin's pants,' you know she's upset. Anyway, the other teachers won't stand for this. McGonagall and Flitwick and Sprout all know the truth, they know how Dumbledore died. They won't accept Snape as headmaster. And who are these Carrows?"

"Death Eaters. There are pictures of them inside. They were at the top of the tower when Snape killed Dumbledore, so it's all friends together. And I can't see that the other teachers have got any choice but to stay. If the Ministry and Voldemort are behind Snape, it'll be a choice between staying and teaching, or a nice few years in Azkaban — and that's if they're lucky. I reckon they'll stay to try and protect the students."

I nodded. "I just hope they can. I hid a few of Cedric's jumpers in Ginny's trunk, at any rate, so at least they have those just in case something goes sideways. I doubt they'll need those at all, it is still a school, but... I feel better knowing those are there."

"Me too," Ron agreed.

Harry sighed and flipped over the newspaper so we didn't have to keep looking at Snape's face. "Well, at least we know exactly where Snape is now. There are still a load of Death Eaters watching the house, by the way, more than usual. It's like they're hoping we'll march out carrying our school trunks and head off for the Hogwarts Express."

"I've been thinking about that all day," Ron said. "It left nearly six hours ago. Weird, not being on it, isn't it?"

"Yeah," I agreed. My mind wandered to Ginny, and Neville, and Luna, and Lavender, and Parvati, and Gretch, and Cam, and everyone else who was returning to school. I hoped they were alright. I banished the worry from my mind as best I could and cleared my throat. "Anyway, Harry, how was your day?"

"Oh, peachy, just peachy," he replied as he lowered himself into the seat next to me. "They nearly saw me coming back in just now. I landed badly on the top step, and the cloak slipped. How was your day, Lu?"

I smiled at him. "Better now."

Ron groaned and reached into his pocket, pulling out a handkerchief and holding it out to Harry. "Here."

"Why on earth are you offering me a handkerchief?" Harry inquired with a confused furrow of his brow.

"Your glasses are in desperate need of cleaning," Ron replied.

I stifled a laugh behind my hand, and Harry was spared from further comment by the return of Hermione.

"And what in the name of Merlin's most baggy Y Fronts was that about?" Ron asked.

Hermione rushed into the room and shoved a painting into her bag. "I remembered this. Phineas Nigellus. Snape could send Phineas Nigellus to look inside this house for him, but let him try it now, all Phineas Nigellus will be able to see is the inside of my handbag."

"Good thinking!" Ron exclaimed.

"Thank you," Hermione replied with a pleased smile.

Kreacher appeared then with soup — he was still looking at me with mingled shock, horror, and rage every time our paths crossed, ever since he found me in a rather compromising position with Harry in the transformation room, but he didn't dare openly express his distaste for me in front of Harry — and we eagerly started eating.

"So, Harry, what else happened today?" Hermione asked.

"Nothing. Watched the Ministry entrance for seven hours. No sign of her. Saw your dad, though, Ron. He looks fine," Harry reported.

Ron nodded. "Good. Dad always told us most Ministry people use the Floo Network to get to work. That's why we haven't seen Umbridge, she'd never walk, she'd think she's too important."

"And what about that funny old witch and that little wizard in the navy robes?" Hermione inquired.

"Oh yeah, the bloke from Magical Maintenance," Ron replied.

Hermione froze. "How do you know he works for Magical Maintenance?"

"Dad said everyone from Magical Maintenance wears navy blue robes," Ron said.

Hermione shoved her soup aside and reached for the notes. "But you never told us that! There's nothing in here about navy blue robes, nothing!"

"Well, does it really matter?"

"Ron, it all matters! If we're going to get into the Ministry and not give ourselves away when they're bound to be on the lookout for intruders, every little detail matters! We've been over and over this, I mean, what's the point of all these reconnaissance trips if you aren't even bothering to tell us — "

"Blimey, Hermione, I forget one little thing — "

"You do realize, don't you, that there's probably no more dangerous place in the whole world for us to be right now than the Ministry of — "

"I think we should do it tomorrow," Harry interrupted.

Ron and Hermione stopped bickering abruptly.

Hermione blinked. "Tomorrow? You aren't serious, Harry?"

"Well, no, he's Harry, not Sirius," I said in an attempt to diffuse the tension. When Harry was the only one who cracked a grin, I cleared my throat and pressed on. "Anyway, I think he's right. I'm anxious about it, yes, but sitting around here doing nothing is only making me more anxious with every passing day."

"Lucy's right," Harry said. "Look, I don't think we're going to be much better prepared than we are now even if we skulk around the Ministry entrance for another month. The longer we put it off, the farther away that locket could be. There's already a good chance Umbridge has chucked it away; the thing doesn't open."

"Unless she's found a way of opening it and she's now possessed," Ron pointed out.

"Wouldn't make any difference to her, she was so evil in the first place," Harry replied.

I snorted. "Honestly. But yes, the longer we sit around here gathering information about how to try to get to the locket, the harder it could become to actually get to the locket."

Harry nodded, looking earnestly at Hermione. "We know everything important. We know they've stopped apparition in and out of the Ministry. We know only the most senior Ministry members are allowed to connect their homes to the Floo Network now, because Ron heard those two Unspeakables complaining about it. And we know roughly where Umbridge's office is, because of what you heard that bearded bloke saying to his mate — "

"'I'll be up on level one, Dolores wants to see me,'" Hermione said.

"Exactly. And we know you get in using those funny coins, or tokens, or whatever they are, because I saw that witch borrowing one from her friend — "

"But we haven't got any!" Hermione protested.

"If the plan works, we will."

"I don't know, Harry, I don't know," Hermione said fretfully. "There are an awful lot of things that could go wrong, so much relies on chance."

"That'll be true even if we spend another three months preparing. It's time to act," Harry asserted.

I nodded. "We'll never feel ready, but we've done the necessary work. We're as ready as we're going to be, even if we're not as ready as we'd like to be."

When Hermione and Ron both hesitated, Harry leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. "Come on. It's not just about the locket, either. The sooner Lucy can get in and steal the necessary files, the better off everyone will be. If you can't do it for the locket, do it for Lucy."

A long second passed. I looked down at Harry's hands as I felt Ron and Hermione's eyes boring into me.

"Alright," Hermione relented.

Ron nodded. "If we're going for it tomorrow, it should just be me and Harry."

"Absolutely not," I said immediately. "I am the only person I trust with my Ministry files. No offense to any of you, but they're my files. You three need to all be focused on the locket."

"Don't start this again, I thought we'd sorted this, we're all going!" Hermione burst out.

"It's one thing hanging around the entrances under the cloak, but this is different, Hermione. You're on the list of Muggle-borns who didn't present themselves for interrogation!" Ron said.

Hermione scoffed. "And you're supposed to be dying of spattergroit at the Burrow, Ron! If anyone shouldn't go, it's Harry, he's got a ten-thousand-Galleon price on his head — "

"Fine, I'll stay here. Let me know if you ever defeat Voldemort, won't you?" Harry retorted.

We all laughed at that, but Harry went white suddenly, his hand flying to his forehead. He brushed his hair back, trying to play it off, but I didn't miss it. I glanced over at Ron and Hermione to see if they'd noticed, but they were too busy staring intently at the plans and notes. I slipped my hand under the table and rested it on Harry's thigh, rubbing my thumb back and forth reassuringly.

"Well, if all four of us go we'll have to disapparate separately. We can't all fit under the cloak anymore," Ron said.

"Lucy and Harry can disapparate with the cloak," Hermione said, "they're the ones in the most danger. Lucy can tail one of us into the Ministry itself, still under the cloak, since she can't take polyjuice potion."

Ron glanced up at me. "You'll still be disguised, right, as best you can?"

I opened my mouth to respond, but before I could, Harry got up from the table.

Kreacher rushed over. "Master has not finished his soup, would Master prefer the savory stew, or else the treacle tart to which Master is so partial?"

"Thanks, Kreacher, but I'll be back in a minute — er — bathroom," Harry said before taking off at a rather fast clip.

"His scar?" Hermione asked in a low voice as soon as he'd disappeared.

"Yeah," I whispered back. "Right when he made the comment about Voldemort. Don't suppose that could be related?"

"Merlin only knows," Hermione said, sighing.

I gnawed on my lower lip. "Maybe — maybe I shouldn't do anything with the files in the Ministry. We should all stick together."

"Lucy, you need to see what the records say about what happened to your parents," Hermione insisted. "You need to make sure there aren't any mentions of your lycanthropy anywhere, and you need to see what they say, if anything, about Rose and what actually happened two summers ago."

"The locket is so much more important, though. And what if something happens with his scar tomorrow when he gets close to the locket? I — "

I was interrupted by the sound of Harry shouting.

I jumped to my feet in an instant and sprinted in the direction of the shouts, bursting through the bathroom door and dropping to my knees in front of Harry, who was sitting on the floor panting.

I pulled Harry to his feet and lowered my voice. "Are you okay?"

He only had time to nod before Hermione and Ron followed me into the bathroom and looked at Harry suspiciously.

"What were you doing, Harry?" Hermione asked.

Harry narrowed his eyes. "What d'you think I was doing?"

"You were yelling your head off!" Ron informed him.

"Oh yeah, I must've dozed off or — "

Hermione crossed her arms. "Harry, please don't insult our intelligence. We know your scar hurt downstairs, and you're white as a sheet."

"Fine." Harry sat down on the edge of the bathtub, and I sat down beside him. "I've just seen Voldemort murdering a woman. By now he's probably killed her whole family. And he didn't need to. It was Cedric all over again, they were just there..."

I gripped the cool porcelain of the tub with both hands, forcing myself not to react. There were enough high emotions in the room without me freaking out on top of everything else.

"Harry, you aren't supposed to let this happen anymore! Dumbledore wanted you to use Occlumency!" Hermione said, far too loudly for the small echoing space. "He thought the connection was dangerous — Voldemort can use it, Harry! What good is it to watch him kill and torture, how can it help?"

"Because it means I know what he's doing," Harry replied.

"So you're not even going to try to shut him out?"

"Hermione, I can't. You know I'm lousy at Occlumency, I never got the hang of it."

"You never really tried! I don't get it, Harry — do you like having this special connection or relationship or what — whatever — "

Harry got to his feet, glaring at Hermione. "Like it? Would you like it?"

"I — no — I'm sorry, Harry, I didn't mean — "

"I hate it, I hate the fact that he can get inside me, that I have to watch him when he's most dangerous. But I'm going to use it."

"Dumbledore — "

"Forget Dumbledore. This is my choice, nobody else's," Harry said firmly. "I want to know why he's after Gregorovitch."

"Who?"

"He's a foreign wandmaker. He made Krum's wand and Krum reckons he's brilliant," Harry explained.

Ron nodded slowly. "But according to you, Voldemort's got Ollivander locked up somewhere. If he's already got a wandmaker, what does he need another one for?"

"Maybe he agrees with Krum, maybe he thinks Gregorovitch is better, or else he thinks Gregorovitch will be able to explain what my wand did when he was chasing me, because Ollivander didn't know."

"Harry, you keep talking about what your wand did," Hermione said, "but you made it happen! Why are you so determined not to take responsibility for your own power?"

"Because I know it wasn't me! And so does Voldemort, Hermione! We both know what really happened!" Harry said.

"Can we just stop talking about this, please?" I said from where I was still frozen in place on the side of the bathtub, glaring a hole in the tile floor just to stop myself from exploding. "Hermione, leave Harry alone, Harry, try not to let Voldemort in tomorrow when we're in the middle of the Ministry of Magic, and Ron, just... keep being you, please, you're keeping me sane."

Ron shuffled in between Harry and Hermione and joined me on the side of the bathtub, resting one of his hands on top of mine. "Lucy, if this is sane, I don't want to see who you'd become without me. What did the floor ever do to you? If looks could kill..."

Despite myself, I laughed and looked up at him. "You never heard about the Great Floor Incident of '89? I've hated tile floors with a passion ever since."

Ron grinned and looked back up at Harry and Hermione. "Hermione, drop it. It's up to Harry. If we're going to the Ministry tomorrow, don't you reckon we should go over the plans?"

"Right. Right, of course," Hermione said, blinking and shaking her head.

"We'll join you two in a minute." Ron dismissed Harry and Hermione with a wave of his hand. "I want to hear about this Great Floor Incident without you argumentative gits listening in."

Harry snorted. "Alright, but for the record, Lucy hates carpet, not tile."

With that, Harry walked out of the bathroom, and Hermione hurried past him in the direction of the kitchen, already talking to herself about the plans for the next day's break-in.

"I can't tell if Harry's joking or not," Ron replied with perfect sincerity.

"He's right," I said. "It's carpet that you've got to look out for. Carpet burn is no joke, and that's coming from a werewolf."

"Noted. You alright?"

I nodded. "Yeah, I'm alright, are you?"

"I'm not the one staring at the floor like it's what killed my brother personally," Ron said gently. "Is that all that's bothering you? The mention of Cedric?"

"Yeah, I'm alright, are you?" I repeated.

"Lucy, I understand that you're used to Harry's level of observant-ness — " Ron started.

I giggled.

" — but I actually have eyes, I don't even have glasses to clean, so you can't fool me. Come on, now, out with it, what's bothering you?"

"I think it would be easier to make a list of what isn't bothering me," I said with a heavy sigh.

"Do that, then. Maybe it'll make you feel better."

"Alright, a list of everything that isn't bothering me: you, in this exact moment in time. And, er... hm, this is harder than I realized. I suppose the fact that there's treacle tart waiting downstairs isn't particularly bothersome, though I don't particularly fancy the thought of sharing a room with Harry, Hermione, and Kreacher at the moment."

"It's so strange that he hasn't warmed up to you yet," Ron remarked. "I'm surprised the whole werewolf deal bothers him so much, considering he used to live with the actual incarnate form of the screeching hag downstairs. If I had to choose a W-word to live with, I'd take Werewolf over Walburga any day."

I snorted, knowing damn well why Kreacher still kept me at arms-length but knowing even better that I was not about to volunteer that information. "Thanks. Anyway, that's my list. You're not bothering me currently, and neither is the treacle tart waiting for me downstairs once I stop being all dramatic and just go back."

"It's not dramatic to be upset right now. I'd be more concerned if you weren't upset about the state of the world," Ron said, squeezing my hand.

"I'm trying to do a better job keeping it together than this," I said. "Sorry."

Ron looked at me incredulously. "Lucy, what? First of all, you're doing a scarily good job of keeping it together. I mean, just look at Harry and Hermione, they were at each other's throats not five minutes ago over something neither one can really control. You're holding it together better than any of us, considering you have so much more on your plate than we do. Second of all, you don't have to keep it together. We're your friends, and we love you, and keeping yourself all closed up like this will just make your eventual explosion all the more catastrophic, because you can't possibly expect yourself to bottle it up forever."

"Watch me," I muttered, though there was no real bite or conviction in my words.

"Oh, I have." Ron sighed and patted my hand. "I've watched for years as you've tried and failed to bottle everything up, Lucy. We both know it never works, not really. The tricky thing about feelings is that — and brace yourself, this might come as a shock to you — you have to feel your feelings before you can let go and move on. It's in the name. You of all people should know that, Little Miss Mood Ring."

"Is now a bad time to say you sound like Lavender?" I asked.

Ron blinked. "What?"

"Yeah. A couple months ago she saw me burning one of the letters I write Cedric and asked about it, and we talked. We made a half-joking agreement that she'd teach me how to be better about expressing my feelings, and I'd teach her how to do wandless silencing magic so she wouldn't express her feelings so loudly that it would bother other people." I sighed. "I hope she's okay. I reckon that dorm will be rather lonely with just the two girls."

"I hope she's okay too," Ron said. He chuckled. "Well, I don't know if I'll ever say this again, so listen close, but Lavender's right. I think you could benefit from being a bit more open with your emotions — intentionally, anyway. You're fairly easy to read, your face usually gives away what you're feeling whether you admit it or not, but I think we'd all benefit from you being more vocal about it."

I harrumphed and narrowed my eyes at Ron. "I'm not easy to read!"

"Oh, you're so easy to read," he replied. He patted my cheek. "You're blushing. You're embarrassed. You know I'm right."

"No!" I protested. "I'm not easy to read! I'm a perfect enigma!"

"Just keep telling yourself that," Ron said with a grin.

"Excuse me, Ronald Weasley, but who here is the secret werewolf?" I asked.

"Well, okay, that's fair," he relented for a second, "but — it's — your emotions are still easy to read even if we don't always correctly guess why you're feeling that way."

"Now you sound like Archie," I grumbled. "He said he always knew I had something else going on, he chalked it up to other people and events before he found out my secret."

Ron grinned. "Yeah, that's it exactly. Before we knew you were a werewolf and we could tell you were upset about something, it was easy to blame the Chamber of Secrets, and Buckbeak's trial, and the Triwizard Tournament, and — "

"I get it, I get it, I'm not as mysterious as I thought," I interrupted.

"Oi, no need to sound so put-out by it," Ron said, bumping his shoulder against mine. "Merlin forbid the people in your life love you enough to notice how you're feeling and care about you enough to want to cheer you up when you're feeling down."

I grinned ruefully. "Alright. I get it. Thanks, Ron. So humor me, in the spirit of vulnerability, how are you feeling?"

"I'm alright, I guess," he replied with a shrug. "Not exactly excited about tomorrow, but I'll feel better when it's behind us and we've got our hands on the locket and we can work on destroying it. And then... we do it over and over and over and over and over again, I guess. Bloody hell, I'm exhausted and we don't even have the locket yet. How on earth are we going to do this?"

"One step at a time." I twisted my hand around so I could interlock my fingers with his. I squeezed his hand gently then got to my feet. "We're going to figure it out one step at a time. As long as the two of us stick together and keep each other sane, that is. I think I would have had a nervous breakdown by now if I was trying to wrangle both Harry and Hermione by myself."

"Likewise," Ron said with a grin, getting to his feet too. He sighed heavily. "Right, let's go make plans for infiltrating the most important government building in the whole ruddy country. Somehow that's preferable to hearing Harry and Hermione bickering."

I snorted. "Somehow."

🩵💛❤️💜🩷

The next morning dawned far too soon. None of us had managed much sleep. I transfigured my rucksack into a bumbag that I could obscure under my shirt, and tediously changed my appearance in the mirror. I started by covering my scars, of course, then charmed my eyes grey, added a smattering of freckles to my face, charmed my hair black, and donned a pair of thick glasses I'd found in Sirius's room. I punched out the glass and replaced it with normal glass so I could still see, then went downstairs to gather opinions. I found Harry first, on a landing.

"Well? How do I look?" I asked.

Harry looked unsettled. "You're right. It's a little scary looking at someone who's looking at me like you but doesn't look like you."

"I think that's a good sign, then," I replied, "if I look different enough to creep you out."

"You do. But... hm." Harry glanced over his shoulder for a second before looking back at me. "Are we about to be interrupted?"

I strained my ears, then shook my head. "No. Ron and Hermione are in the kitchen talking to Kreacher. We're good."

"Good, because I do have one little note that I don't think they'll mention," Harry said, stepping closer to me. He rested his hands on my shoulders, then let his right thumb trace down the angle of my deltoid muscle, his eyes following the motion. "Anyone who's seen you play Quidditch and actually looked properly is going to know you're you if you're wearing that particular shirt." He ran his hand up my tricep. "I'd never dream of complaining about it, but I think today you might want to disguise the build that wasn't as much of a concern at the wedding, where covering up would have been more suspicious."

"That's a good thought." I sighed. "I'll go change — "

"No, please, not yet," Harry said desperately.

And just like that, I lost track of time as his hands traced every last line of muscle beneath my shirt. He kept his eyes closed the whole time, for fear of opening his eyes to see an almost-stranger looking back at him, but he knew what he was doing. It was a well-choreographed dance, one we had both perfected.

When Hermione shouted that breakfast was ready, I rushed upstairs to change outfits while Harry made his way downstairs to tell Ron and Hermione that he hadn't seen me yet. I switched out my shirt and trousers for a looser set, and I even raided Walburga's closet for a pair of shoes that would make me taller without drawing unnecessary attention to me, if I were to be spotted in the first place.

Once I was ready, I made my way down to the kitchen.

I did a twirl in the doorway, showing off my new outfit for Harry and my new everything for Ron and Hermione. "How do I look?"

"Only someone who actually knows you would know you were you," Hermione said with an approving nod. "I'm glad the eye-color-changing spell worked out."

"As a kid, I always wanted Cedric's grey eyes," I admitted. "I always thought they were neat. Now I guess I get to live out that childhood dream... in a very bizarre and unexpected way."

Ron lifted his cup of coffee. "Lucy and her unfailing optimism strike again. Cheers to childhood dreams fulfilled."

"Cheers," I said, reaching for a cup of my own and downing it all before setting the empty cup back on the table with a wince.

"Good to see you're still you," Harry remarked. "I'm glad your new persona doesn't love coffee. That would be unsettling. What's your new name again?"

"Not that I plan on using it, since I'll ideally be able to sneak around in the invisibility cloak, but..." I cleared my throat and said in my best American accent, "Hi, I'm Christina Miller, but you can call me Christy! I work for MACUSA, with the Federal Bureau of Covert Vigilance and No-Maj Obliviation! I've been sent here to research your new techniques for performing such large-scale magic without alerting No-Majs — I'm sorry, Muggles — to your activities! My supervisor told me to make myself useful by sorting these files, so that's what I'm doing!"

"Your American accent is really coming along! It's almost perfect! Sneaking into that American movie last week worked wonders. And who will you say your Ministry contact is again, if someone wants to know who sent you there?" Hermione asked.

"Paul Midgen," I replied, still in the American accent. "Sorry, this must be unsettling, but I don't want to accidentally switch accents in the middle of the day. All American from here on out. Anyway, I know he's dead, but I'm trusting that anyone who finds me there won't know that, in the grand scheme of mysterious deaths and disappearances. By the time they go looking for him, if they even bother, I'll be gone, off to find you three, and they won't be able to hurt him or his family, he's already dead and I know Eloise and the rest of her family went deep into hiding last year."

Hermione nodded. "Okay. And you're just going to go in, see what the files say about the attack on your family, steal said files if necessary, and leave?"

"Yes," I lied. "Are you three all set?"

That, predictably, sent Hermione into an anxious spiral, and she checked the contents of her bag five times while we ate breakfast. As soon as we were done, Hermione examined the contents of her bag one more time.

"Robes, polyjuice potion, Decoy Detonators... you should all take a few of each just in case, here... Puking Pastilles, Nosebleed Nougat, Extendable Ears..."

"And I have the invisibility cloak," I said, patting my bumbag, which was better concealed under my looser clothes, "and I have a few joke shop products too. Alright, let's go."

As we left, Kreacher promised that he'd have steak-and-kidney pie ready for us when we returned.

Ron sighed happily. "Bless him. And to think, I used to fantasize about cutting off his head and sticking it on the wall. Alright, shall we?"

"We'll go first," Hermione said, slipping her hand into Ron's. "You two wait a minute, then if we don't come back telling you not to follow, you two can apparate to us."

I nodded. "You got it. Good luck."

With that, we made our way carefully onto the front step to remain obscured from the view of the Death Eaters still posted up across the street, and Ron and Hermione disapparated.

I slipped my hand into Harry's. "I love you."

"I love you too," he replied. "You're going to be okay, yeah?"

"Yeah. I think I'll have the easiest job, truthfully."

"I can't believe I'm saying this, but I'm glad your parents were so shady about the circumstances of your kidnapping. 'Adoption,' I mean."

"Me too," I said with a small sigh. "It sure makes hiding the truth easier twelve years later. Well, I reckon it's safe to go, since they haven't come back saying it isn't."

Harry nodded, then kissed my temple. "For luck."

I kissed his cheek, not even having to pop to my toes to do so since I was in high heels. "For luck."

With that, I closed my eyes and disapparated, landing with Harry in the alley where Ron and Hermione were already waiting. I released Harry's hand, and I shifted into mission mode, carefully packing away all emotion in order to better focus on the task at hand. I'd done it before, when Dumbledore sent me into the pub to investigate Draco, and when I'd been tasked with protecting the castle while Harry went after the locket with Dumbledore the first time, and when I'd been preparing for the Horcrux hunt that had led us to that very moment, so I had little difficulty doing it again.

Hermione checked her watch. "Right then. She ought to be here in about five minutes. When I've Stunned her — "

"Hermione, we know. And I thought we were supposed to open the door before she got here?" Ron interrupted.

"I nearly forgot!" Hermione said in a high-pitched voice.

"I've got it." I stepped forward and drew my wand, making the door that led to an empty theater burst open. I pulled it most of the way shut to make it still look like it was closed. "Alright, let's get under the cloak. We're ready."

I tossed the cloak over my head and Harry's while Ron and Hermione went to hide behind a nearby bin and wait for our first... unwilling volunteer.

Soon enough, she apparated into the alleyway, and less than a second later, she was toppling over thanks to Hermione's Stunning Spell. I ducked out of the cloak and rushed forward to catch her just in time.

"Nicely done, Hermione," Ron said, grabbing the witch's feet as Hermione opened the door that led backstage, and Harry followed, the invisibility cloak over his arm.

While Hermione started preparing her dose of polyjuice potion, Ron rifled through the witch's handbag.

"She's Mafalda Hopkirk, you'd better take this, Hermione," Ron said as he handed her Mafalda's business card, "and here are the tokens."

I accepted the tokens and inspected each while Hermione drank the polyjuice potion. Once Hermione had transformed into Mafalda and changed, I handed her half of the tokens, and we made our way back into the alley, Hermione standing in plain sight while the other three of us lurked under the invisibility cloak.

Another Ministry of Magic employee appeared shortly, and he smiled shakily at Hermione.

"Oh, hello, Mafalda."

"Hello! How are you today?"

"Not so good, actually," he replied.

"I'm sorry to hear you're under the weather! Here, have a sweet!"

"Eh? Oh, no thanks — "

"I insist!" Hermione said, shoving the bag in his face.

The second he started to chew, the poor bloke began vomiting everywhere. Hermione snatched a couple of hairs from the top of his head and snatched his bag as she reached to comfort him.

"Oh dear! Perhaps you'd better take the day off!" Hermione said loudly.

The wizard shook his head, protesting as he still tried to stagger down the alley despite how violently sick he was. "No — no! I must — today — must go — " He stumbled and fell to the ground, still vomiting.

"But that's just silly! You can't go to work in this state — I think you ought to go to St. Mungo's and get them to sort you out! You simply can't go to work like this!"

He finally relented and pushed himself to his feet, disapparating on the spot.

"Ew ew ew ew," Hermione said as she made her way over to us on tiptoes to avoid the puddles in the alley. "We should have just Stunned him too, this is disgusting."

"I still think a whole pile of unconscious bodies would have drawn more attention. Keen on his job, though, isn't he? Chuck me the hair and the potion and his bag, then," Ron said, emerging from underneath the invisibility cloak. When Ron had transformed and changed, he looked down at his new form. "Weird he wasn't wearing his Ministry robes today, wasn't it, seeing how much he wanted to go to work? Anyway, I'm Reg Cattermole, according to the label in the back."

"Harry and Lucy, you two wait here, we'll be back with more hair for you in a second, Harry," Hermione said as she and Ron made their way to the street and hung a left.

"So walk me through your plan again, please?" Harry said in a low voice.

"I'll go in, replace my files with the altered copies I've made, and steal the actual files. Nobody needs to know I'm the presumed only survivor of a magical attack on a Muggle family. I'll stay under the invisibility cloak as much as possible. If I can't find a way to slip in under the invisibility cloak, I'll find a quiet corner, shed it, then assume my new identity as Christy Miller and get around that way. Once I have what I need, I'll find another quiet corner, don the cloak again, then wait in the Atrium until I spot you three and tag along once our paths cross."

Harry nodded. "Alright. And what do the altered copies say?"

"They just say I was born a Diggory. If they decide to investigate further, they won't find anything to the contrary at St. Mungo's. I used the Muggle postal system last week to send a letter to Jabari, Cedric's roommate from his summer internship, asking him to destroy all traces of me at St. Mungo's, and I trust him to have found a way to do so, not that it would have been terribly difficult. I think he's the only healer there who actually cared about me anyway, I highly doubt anyone else would notice anything's missing. Merlin knows no one's touched werewolf research in years, since my dad was the only one actively working on it."

"Sounds good to me," Harry said softly. He reached down for my hand, and I let him take it. "Are you at all excited to see what your files actually say, after wondering for years?"

I shrugged. "Yeah, I'm curious. I'll look tonight when we get back, once Ron and Hermione have gone to sleep. Truthfully, I — I'm just relieved my secrets have so far largely remained secrets. I was worried that when I disappeared with you, the Death Eaters would start advertising the truth of who I am."

"I guess they're too busy trying to make me look as bad as possible to pay you any mind," Harry remarked with a slightly-amused grin. "It's far easier to tell the world that I'm mad than to try to tell the world that Cedric Diggory's sister is actually a Muggle-born werewolf. They started calling me mad years ago, that's a far easier sell that your story, even though yours is the truthful one."

"The more truthful one," I corrected.

Harry scoffed. "How dare you!"

"You're a little bit mad, there's a little bit of truth to their story," I said, smiling at him affectionately. "But you're mad about me, so I don't take issue with it."

Harry smiled at me, but the look was pained.

I blinked. "What's wrong?"

"Oh, nothing, nothing," he said quickly. "It's just a tad scary hearing you say something like that about me when I feel like I'm looking into Cedric's eyes as you say it with an American accent."

I laughed, then he laughed, and we laughed until Ron and Hermione reappeared. We shed the cloak, and Hermione held out a handful of curly black hairs.

"We don't know who he is, but he's gone home with a dreadful nosebleed!" Hermione reported. "Here, he's pretty tall, you'll need bigger robes."

Harry quickly downed the polyjuice potion and reached for the bigger robes. Before my eyes, Harry got taller, and more muscular, and sprouted a beard. As he changed into bigger robes, Ron looked up at him with wide eyes.

"Blimey, that's scary," he remarked.

I nodded. "Very scary."

"Why does Harry get to be the big strong handsome bloke but I have to be the small nervous-looking one?" Ron complained.

"You're not gonna like the answer," I retorted, "but it's accurate to how you two really — "

Ron swatted my arm, and I swatted his right back.

Hermione sighed and stepped in between us. "Everyone take one of Mafalda's tokens and let's go, it's nearly nine."

I tossed the cloak back over my head and followed the other three out of the alleyway into the sunny street. Up ahead, we spotted the entrances, which appeared to be two typical underground public loos, labeled according to gender.

"See you boys in a moment, then," Hermione said, and the two of us made our way into the ladies' room.

Fortunately, the room was deserted except for one other woman, who offered Hermione a shaky smile.

"Good morning, Mafalda." The woman inserted her golden coin into a slot in the door. "Running late this morning as well?"

"Good morning, yes, I am," Hermione replied, rushing forward to copy the woman's every move.

There was a loud flush, and I frantically stifled a laugh.

"I can't believe we have to flush ourselves in," Hermione groaned.

I made sure the coast was clear before slipping my arm out from underneath the invisibility cloak to put my coin in the slot and enter the stall. Once I'd secured the cloak around me, I stepped into the toilet with a grimace, but fortunately, the water was just an illusion. With a deep breath, I counted down from three, and Hermione and I flushed ourselves at the same time.

To my dismay, the fireplace in which I'd landed announced my arrival with a whoosh of green flame, but I gamely held onto the cloak and hurried out of the way before anyone could wonder why the fireplace lit up despite nobody being there. I rushed over to join Hermione, who was looking around for Ron and Harry.

"Behind you," I whispered.

Ron appeared first, and he rushed toward Hermione, who gestured for us to follow her behind the statue, which looked rather different than it had the last time I'd been in the Atrium. Rather than a beautiful shimmering gold, the statue was dark stone, with a witch and wizard sitting on thrones atop the words MAGIC IS MIGHT. From behind the statue, I noticed that their thrones were not thrones at all, but instead chair-shaped conglomerations of naked bodies.

"Where's Harry?" Hermione hissed to Ron, who pointed at the fireplace where Harry had landed.

Harry was staring at the new statue, dumbstruck.

Hermione sighed exasperatedly. "Oh, won't he move?"

"He's never been the quickest," I said, wincing as someone slammed into him from behind and knocked him out of the fireplace.

The wizard straightened up and dusted himself off. "Out of the way, can't you — " The wizard looked at Harry and paled. "Oh, sorry, Runcorn!"

With that, he hurried away, and Harry looked around for a second before spotting Ron and Hermione and hurrying over.

"You got in alright, then?" Hermione asked Harry.

Ron snorted. "No, he's still stuck in the bog."

"Oh, very funny," Hermione huffed. "Anyway, the statue is horrible, isn't it? Have you seen what they're sitting on? Muggles... in their rightful place."

Harry shook his head. "Horrible. Lucy? Did you get in?"

"Yeah," I whispered. "Okay, I'll stick with you three, I remember that the lifts announced each floor. When the lift announces a floor that sounds like it'd have the Ministry Archives office, I'll get off. Then when I'm done, I'll come back to this exact spot and wait. If you want my help, come find me, but if you three can manage on your own, just come pick me up on the way out, alright?"

"Alright," Hermione said with a nod. "Come on, let's go."

The four of us joined the throngs of Ministry employees, the other three forming a loose bubble around me under the invisibility cloak so no one bumped into me by accident and found it strange. Just before we got to a lift, a man's voice boomed over the sound of the crowd.

"CATTERMOLE!"

Ron jumped and turned after a second, and the crowds of people around us parted to let an angry-looking man I recognized as the Death Eater Yaxley strode forward.

"I requested somebody from Magical Maintenance to sort out my office, Cattermole," he snarled. "It's still raining in there."

"Raining... in your office? That's — that's not good, is it?" Ron managed, chuckling weakly.

Yaxley did not, however, chuckle. "You think it's funny, Cattermole, do you?"

Ron shook his head. "No, no, of course not — "

"You realize that I am on my way downstairs to interrogate your wife, Cattermole? In fact, I'm quite surprised you're not down there holding her hand while she waits. Already given her up as a bad job, have you? Probably wise. Be sure and marry a pure-blood next time. But if my wife were accused of being a Mudblood — not that any woman I married would ever be mistaken for such filth — and the Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement needed a job doing, I would make it my priority to do that job, Cattermole. Do you understand me?"

"Yes," Ron said immediately.

"Then attend to it, Cattermole, and if my office is not completely dry within an hour, your wife's Blood Status will be in even graver doubt than it is now!" Yaxley shouted, turning to Harry with a pleased smile before turning toward another lift.

Fortunately, after that little display, everyone left us alone, so the four of us had the lift to ourselves.

Ron gripped his hair. "What am I going to do? If I don't turn up, my wife — I mean, Cattermole's wife — "

"We'll come with you, we should stick together — " Harry started to say, but Ron interrupted him.

"That's mental, we haven't got much time. You two find Umbridge, I'll go and sort out Yaxley's office — but how do I stop it raining?"

"I'll take care of it," I said. "You three stick together and look for the locket, I can look for my files once Yaxley's office is sorted — "

"Lucy, no," Harry cut in, "your job is too important — "

"Ron can do it, I know he can," Hermione interjected. "Try Finite Incantatem, that should stop the rain if it's a hex. If it doesn't, something's gone wrong with an Atmospheric Charm, which will be more difficult to fix, so as an interim measure try Impervius to protect his belongings — "

Ron fumbled in his pockets, presumably for parchment and a quill. "Say that again, please, slowly — "

The lift clattered to a halt before anyone could say anything else.

"Level four, Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, incorporating Beast, Being, and Spirit Divisions, Goblin Liaison Office, and Pest Advisory Bureau," a disembodied female voice said.

We were joined then by a group of my dad's former co-workers. I maneuvered myself skillfully through the sudden crowd — mentally thanking Skye Parkin and Oliver Wood for all of the tedious hours of Chaser drills where I had to fit through small spaces at incredible speeds — and positioned myself near the front wall of the lift just as it jolted again.

One of the newcomers smiled at Harry. "Morning, Albert. Dirk Cresswell, eh? From Goblin Liaison? Nice one, Albert. I'm pretty confident I'll get his job now!"

Harry smiled back uncomfortably, and we soon reached Level Two, which was, according to the disembodied female voice, was home of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, including the Improper Use of Magic Office, Auror Headquarters, and Wizengamot Administration Services. Hermione gave Ron a little push, and he followed the other wizards out into the corridor, leaving me alone with Hermione and Harry.

As soon as the door closed, Hermione bit her lip. "Actually, I think I'd better go after him, I don't think he knows what he's doing and if he gets caught the whole thing — "

She was interrupted by the disembodied female voice.

"Level one, Minister of Magic and Support Staff."

The doors opened to reveal Umbridge, as pink and toad-like as ever, speaking with an unfamiliar man, with two others standing right behind.

Umbridge brightened when she saw Hermione. "Ah, Mafalda! Travers sent you, did he?"

"Yes," Hermione stammered.

I slipped out of the lift just before Umbridge stepped in. I was rather certain I'd find the Ministry Archives wherever the Support Staff worked.

"Good, you'll do perfectly well," Umbridge said. She turned to the man next to her. "That's that problem solved, Minister, if Mafalda can be spared for record-keeping we shall be able to start straightaway. Ten people today and one of them the wife of a Ministry employee! Tut, tut... even here, in the heart of the Ministry! We'll go straight down, Mafalda, you'll find everything you need in the courtroom. Good morning, Albert, aren't you getting out?"

"Yes," Harry said. "Of course."

He stepped out, and fell in step with the Minister.

"What brings you up here, Runcorn?" he asked.

"Needed a quick word with Arthur Weasley," Harry said. "Someone said he was on level one."

"Ah, has he been caught having contact with an Undesirable?"

Harry shook his head. "No, no, nothing like that."

"Ah, well. It's only a matter of time. If you ask me, the blood traitors are as bad as the Mudbloods. Good day, Runcorn," the Minister said, walking away.

"Good day, Minister," Harry called after him.

As soon as the Minister disappeared from sight, I shed the invisibility cloak and handed it to Harry.

"What do we do?" he asked, his panic obvious.

"Go find Umbridge's office, see if the locket's there," I whispered. "Use the cloak, you need it more than I do. I'll take care of the files, then go check on Ron, then bring him with me to the courtrooms once the office is sorted to check on Hermione. Meet me in the courtrooms once you've checked her office. Okay?"

Harry nodded and tossed the cloak over himself immediately. I straightened my blazer and strode off in the opposite direction of the Minister, Harry following close behind. I scanned the doors on both sides, and realized with mounting panic that we were surrounded by offices. Finally, I found the door reading MINISTRY ARCHIVES at the end of a corridor.

"Ah, perfect!" I said, both to myself and to Harry, plastering a smile on my face as I headed inside.

The room itself was massive, spanning across multiple stories, staircases connecting each level.

Oh, fuck me, I'm never going to find my file in here, I thought to myself as my false smile faded.

Fortunately, the witches and wizards already in there paid me no mind, as they were all engrossed in whatever their various projects were. Cobwebs covered stacks of books and boxes on the floor, and the shelves were covered in thick layers of dust.

The last thing I wanted to do was interact with anyone, but I knew I would look even more suspicious wandering around aimlessly looking for my file than I would if I asked someone for help and walked directly to it. I surveyed the crowd and spotted a young woman sitting by herself, so I approached her with all of the confidence and warmth of my American persona and tapped her on the shoulder.

"I'm so sorry to bother you," I said with a smile, deciding to concoct a new story on the fly, "but I'm a MACUSA employee, a recent graduate of Ilvermorny, and I'm afraid I have no idea where to find the files my supervisor sent me all the way to London to find. Do you by any chance know where the Ministry keeps their files on established wizarding families? Within the C through F range, specifically?"

The woman pointed to the left. "Alphabetical order starts there with A, then the deeper you go, the closer you'll get to Z. A good 'Accio' should do the trick, unless you're looking for a Sacred Twenty-Eight family. Their files are protected with all kinds of ancient magic, so good luck, if that's the case."

"Thankfully, no," I said. "Thank you so much for your help!"

I breathed a small sigh of relief as I scurried off in the direction she had pointed. So far so good. I walked as fast as I could in between the towering bookshelves until I thought I was far enough down to be in the D to E range.

"Accio Diggory family records," I whispered, holding my hands out.

When nothing happened, I exhaled sharply. It made sense that the file would be unable to be summoned, considering what was in it. Amos Diggory had kidnapped a child. Even though my record apparently didn't contain any details about my condition — since Umbridge had known about the "adoption" but not the lycanthropy — kidnapping a Muggle child wasn't a great look, and I was quite certain my parents would have gone to decent lengths to keep their secrets.

I snatched a sheaf of paper off the nearest shelf to see if I was even close to the right area. I was, thankfully — I had grabbed the Davies family records. I returned it to its place and went down a couple more sheaves, then pulled out the next couple sheaves.

"Davies, Davies, Davies, bloody hell, there are so many generations of Davies," I muttered to myself as I returned the sheaves and reached for a different shelf. "Diggle, excellent, Diggle, Diggle, Diggle, Diggle, Diggle... Dodderidge?"

I frantically grabbed more sheaves and flipped through a couple pages of each, but my fears were confirmed. Someone had removed the Diggory family files.

Over the course of the next couple minutes, I flipped through dozens and dozens of pages in the E section too, looking for an Everlin family file, but when I could find nothing for the Everlins either, I merely grabbed the last stack of files I'd searched and made my way out of the Ministry Archives room and hurried off in search of Umbridge's office. She was behind the missing files, I just knew she was.

The smell of smoke reached me before I saw it, and I put on a burst of speed. A large group of people had gathered around what I recognized as a Decoy Detonator, which was honking and smoking as everyone tried and failed to hit it with a spell that would make it stop.

In the chaos, I was able to sprint around the edge of the room undetected and burst into Umbridge's office.

Harry disappeared under the invisibility cloak, then shed it the second he realized it was me. He looked at the armful of parchment I was holding with wide eyes, then looked back up at me.

"Any luck?"

I shook my head. "No. You?"

"I just got in here, I eavesdropped on the workers outside for a minute before I remembered the Decoy Detonator and used it as a distraction."

"You look for the locket, I'll look for my file, I know it's got to be in here somewhere."

Harry nodded, and I shoved the stack in my arms into my bumbag as I made a beeline for the filing cabinet in the corner.

"Found it," I announced after a minute as I plucked the sheaf reading DIGGORY (EVERLIN) from the centermost drawer.

I set the file down on Umbridge's desk and pulled out all of the pages inside, replacing them with my own pages. I frantically moved my wand over each of my replacement pages, making the necessary changes so they looked identical to the format of the original pages. I drew a line through the (EVERLIN) part of the title as well, adding a small note saying the matter had been cleared up and the Everlin suspicion was misguided, a mistake.

"The locket's not in here," Harry muttered, elbow-deep in a vase. "The book about Dumbledore is, though."

"Great," I replied distractedly. "I mean, no, not great." I shoved the original pages of the file into my bumbag and wrenched open the cabinet again to return the altered sheaf. Another name, though, caught my eye. "Wait, Harry, come look at this."

I drew out the file on Arthur Weasley and held it up for him to read over my shoulder.

ARTHUR WEASLEY

BLOOD STATUS: Pure-blood, but with unacceptable pro-Muggle leanings. Known member of the Order of the Phoenix.

FAMILY: Wife (pure-blood), seven children, two youngest at Hogwarts. NB: Youngest son currently at home, seriously ill, Ministry inspectors have confirmed.

SECURITY STATUS: TRACKED. All movements are being monitored. Strong likelihood Undesirable No. 1 and 2 will contact (have stayed with Weasley family previously)

"Reckon we're Undesirables 1 and 2?" I asked.

"We are," Harry confirmed, pointing across the room at a massive poster of his face with the text UNDESIRABLE NO. 1 written beneath him.

I pouted. "I want a poster too."

"You have one, I snatched it off of one of the desks out there," Harry muttered.

"Someone's coming," I hissed, hurriedly yanking the invisibility cloak over us just as the Minister opened the door.

He approached Umbridge's desk and started scribbling a note for her, so Harry and I moved as one and ducked out of the room.

The pamphlet-makers I'd rushed past were standing around the Decoy Detonator still, which was quieter and spewing less smoke. We passed the crowd easily and found an empty lift. Once inside, we shed the cloak.

"We need to get out of here," Harry said. "We can come back another day, we need to find Ron and help him, then get Hermione out of the courtrooms before her polyjuice wears off."

Before I could reply, the lift reached level two, and Ron staggered in, dripping on the floor.

"Did you do it, Ron?" I asked.

"Oh thank Merlin," he said as soon as he realized we were us. "Blimey, I forgot what you looked like — why isn't Hermione with you?"

"She had to go down to the courtrooms with Umbridge," Harry explained. "She couldn't refuse, and — "

The lift halted again, and Harry's mouth snapped shut as Mr. Weasley entered, deep in conversation with an elderly witch.

"I quite understand what you're saying, but I'm afraid I cannot be party to — " Mr. Weasley stopped abruptly when he saw Harry, and he glared fiercely at him. He looked around at the other elevator occupants, looking at me for only a second before focusing on Ron. "Oh, hello, Reg. Isn't your wife in for questioning today? Er — what's happened to you? Why are you so wet?"

Ron didn't meet his dad's eyes as he replied, looking instead at his shoulder. "Yaxley's office is raining. I couldn't stop it, so they've sent me to get Bernie — Pillsworth, I think they said — "

"Yes, a lot of offices have been raining lately. In Yaxley's case, I'd suggest he merely purchase an umbrella. Did you try Meteolojinx Recanto? It worked for Bletchley," Mr. Weasley said.

"Meteolojinx Recanto? No, I didn't. Thanks, D — I mean, thanks, Arthur."

As soon as the lift stopped again, I followed Ron off the lift, nearly bumping into Percy Weasley, of all people, in the process. I ducked around him though and trailed after Ron. I turned over my shoulder to see if Harry was following, but his path was blocked by Percy, and he shot me a despairing look as the lift disappeared.

"We're on our own, Reg," I said softly.

Ron sighed. "Fuck. Well, at least with you with me, we should be able to sort the office. Follow me."

The two of us made our way through the winding corridors until we reached Yaxley's office. Together, the two of us were able to make the rain stop with the help of Mr. Weasley's spell, and I did a couple of spells to dry Yaxley's belongings and Ron's robes.

"Okay, let's go help Harry and Hermione out in the courtrooms," I said, and we hurried back in the direction of the lifts. On the way, we passed a small gaggle of Ministry workers, all talking over each other.

When I overheard what exactly they were saying, I snagged Ron by the wrist and started running toward the lifts.

"What's the big idea?" he squawked.

As soon as the lift door closed behind us, I groaned. "They know there are intruders in the Ministry, they noticed a hole in Umbridge's office door that coincided with Harry's Decoy Detonator."

"Hole in Umbridge's office door?" Ron repeated. "Why would Harry do that?"

"I don't know, I didn't even notice it, but that's not important now, we need to get out of here as fast as possible," I replied. "We need to find Harry and Hermione, and — "

Before I could continue, the lift doors opened to reveal a rather unexpected sight.

Finding Harry and Hermione was far easier than intended. They were standing in front of a group of about twenty people, Harry's stag patronus and Hermione's otter patronus leading the way.

A woman launched herself forward into Ron's arms. "Reg! Runcorn let me out, he attacked Umbridge and Yaxley, and he's told all of us to leave the country, I think we'd better do it, Reg, I really do, let's hurry home and fetch the children and — "

"Harry, Hermione!" I called over her. "They know there are intruders inside the Ministry, we need to go, now!"

Hermione's patronus vanished at once. "If we're trapped here — "

"We won't be if we go now!" I interrupted.

Harry turned around to address the group of people behind him. "Who's got wands?" When only about half of the people raised their hands, he pinched the bridge of his nose. "Okay, all of you who haven't got wands need to attach yourself to somebody who has. We'll need to be fast before they stop us. Come on."

Everyone managed to cram into one lift, and Harry's patronus hovered in front of us as the lifts lurched away.

"So, are we jail-breaking the Muggle-borns on trial today?" I asked Harry.

He nodded. "Something like that."

"Excellent," I said. I turned to face everyone with what I hoped was a reassuring smile. "It's going to be okay."

To our horror, however, the fireplace exits were being actively sealed off by the time we reached the Atrium.

"Harry, say something, you're the scary Ministry person," I hissed.

"STOP!" he called, Runcorn's deep voice filling the space.

Everyone stopped what they were doing. Harry strode out of the lift, and I gestured for everyone to follow me, Ron and Hermione on either side of me.

"What's up, Albert?" a wizard called.

"This lot need to leave before you seal the exits."

"We've been told to seal all exits and not let anyone — "

"Are you contradicting me? Would you like me to have your family tree examined, like I had Dirk Cresswell's?"

The wizard squeaked. "Sorry! I didn't mean anything by it, Albert, but I thought they were in for questioning, and..."

"Their blood is pure. Purer than many of yours, I daresay." He turned to the crowd of Muggle-borns and waved them toward the fireplaces. "Off you go."

They dispersed frantically, while the Ministry employees stared at us for a long minute.

"Mary!" someone shouted.

"Shit," I muttered, turning to face the real Reg Cattermole, who was approaching his wife. "Shit, shit, shit, we need to go."

"SEAL THE EXIT!" one of the Ministry employees shouted.

Ron grabbed Mary Cattermole and disappeared into a fireplace, while the real Reg Cattermole protested indignantly.

Harry punched the employee who'd shouted at everyone to seal the exits. "Yaxley! He's been helping Muggle-borns escape!"

Then all hell broke loose.

I grabbed Reg Cattermole with one hand and Harry with the other and started running for the same fireplace Ron had used.

"Grab Hermione!" I shouted to Harry.

Once he had her hand, I jumped into the fireplace, and a second later, we were back in the toilet. I practically tossed Reg at his wife while Hermione grabbed hold of Ron. Everyone's polyjuice was fading, I could tell. Yaxley appeared then, and I looked at Hermione.

"I've got it!" she yelled, squeezing her eyes shut tight and disapparating all four of us.

No. Five of us.

Yaxley had grabbed onto Hermione.

In a blur of space and time, I blasted Yaxley away, leaving him at 12 Grimmauld Place as Hermione disapparated us again. I managed to land on my feet, but Harry beside me was not so lucky. He sprawled flat on his back, looking like Harry once more as the breath punched out of him. I looked at Hermione, who was gasping for breath, looking once again like herself. Ron had a funny look on his face, and then he collapsed.

"Ron!" Hermione gasped, dropping to her knees beside him. "What happened? What — oh no."

I saw it the same time she did, the blood that had drenched the entire left side of his body.

Ron groaned, and Harry twisted onto his side at the sound and started crawling toward him.

"Hermione, get the robes off," I panted. "We need to see — "

She scrambled at his clothes, ripping the robes.

"What happened?" Harry asked.

"Splinched," Hermione replied hysterically. "Quickly, in my bag, there's a small bottle labeled 'Essence of Dittany' — "

"I've got it," I said, summoning the bottle out of the bag.

"He's fainted," Harry reported.

"That's for the best, I reckon," I muttered as I crouched near his head to inspect the chunk that had been torn out of his arm. I felt dizzy. I was getting better about being around blood and gore, but Ron's wound was ghastly. I swallowed the bile crawling up my throat. "We need to clean the wound before we seal it up with the dittany or else it'll most likely get infected."

"Lucy, I've got it," Harry said, gently touching my shoulder. "You're allergic to dittany, and you look like you're going to be sick anyway. I know what I'm doing," he added. "I've handled similar wounds of yours. It's okay."

I stumbled backward and landed hard, trembling violently. I got to my feet and started casting protective enchantments while Harry cleaned the wound then administered three drops of dittany to Ron's arm, which successfully stopped the bleeding.

Hermione had gotten over her hysteria in record time and instead looked merely numb. "That's all I feel safe doing. There are spells that would put him completely right, but I daren't try in case I do them wrong and cause more damage... he's lost so much blood already..."

"It's okay, Hermione," I whispered, recovering my wits a bit and returning to her side. "It's okay. We're safe, and Ron's going to be okay, that's all that matters."

"How did he get hurt?" Harry asked. He blinked, dazed. "I mean, why are we here? I thought we were going back to Grimmauld Place?"

"Harry, I don't think we're going to be able to go back there," Hermione said shakily.

"What d'you — ?"

"As we disapparated, Yaxley caught hold of me and I couldn't get rid of him, he was too strong, and he was still holding on when we arrived at Grimmauld Place, and then — well, I think he must have seen the door, and thought we were stopping there, so he slackened his grip and I managed to shake him off and I brought us here instead!"

"I jinxed him," I explained, "as soon as I realized he'd tagged along, but I was too late."

"But then where is he? Hang on..." Harry's eyes widened. "You don't mean he's at Grimmauld Place? He can't get in there?"

"Harry, I think he can. Lucy forced him to let go, but I'd already taken him inside the Fidelius Charm's protection. Since Dumbledore died, we're Secret-Keepers, so I've given him the secret, haven't I? Harry, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry!"

"Don't your dare apologize, it's not your fault, it's not anyone's except maybe mine."

Harry reached into the pocket of his robes and extracted a familiar sphere.

I felt like I was going to be sick all over again. "Is that... Alastor's..."

Harry laid his hand flat to show that he was in fact holding Alastor's magical eye. "Umbridge had stuck it to her office door, to spy on people. I couldn't leave it there, but that's how they knew there were intruders."

I nodded, inhaling deeply to steel myself. "Alastor would have appreciated that. I understand. We got out of there safely, that's all that matters." I drew my wand and pointed it at Ron. "Rennervate."

Ron groaned and opened his eyes.

"How are you feeling?" Hermione asked softly.

Ron experimentally prodded his injury. "Lousy. Fuck. Where are we?"

"In the woods where they held the Quidditch World Cup. I wanted somewhere enclosed, undercover, and this was the first place I thought of," Hermione said.

"D'you reckon we should move on?" Ron asked.

"I put up protective enchantments, and I can do more if we decide to stay, but I can do that wherever we go," I replied. "Harry? What do you want to do?"

Harry looked at Ron for a long second. Ron looked awful, and he showed no signs of being ready to move anytime soon.

"We should stay here," Harry said, "for now."

Hermione nodded, looking relieved. "I'll do the protective enchantments. You can set up the tent, it's in my bag."

"Tent?" Harry repeated.

I reached for Hermione's bag and summoned the tent.

Harry wrinkled his nose as the smell of cats hit us both. "I thought this belonged to that bloke Perkins at the Ministry."

"Apparently he didn't want it back, his lumbago's so bad, so Ron's dad said I could borrow it," Hermione replied.

I erected the tent, and Hermione did the last spells.

"That's as much as I can do. At the very least, we should know they're coming, I can't guarantee it will keep out Vol — "

"Don't say the name!" Ron snarled.

We all blinked, startled by the severity of his tone.

Ron looked immediately repentant as he tried to push himself up to a sitting position.

"No, Ron, don't," I said, but he merely shot me an annoyed look and propped himself up on the elbow of his uninjured arm.

"I'm sorry, but it feels like a — a jinx or something. Can't we call him You-Know-Who — please?"

Harry frowned. "Dumbledore said fear of a name — "

"In case you hadn't noticed, mate, calling You-Know-Who by his name didn't do Dumbledore much good in the end. Just — just show You-Know-Who some respect, will you?"

"Respect?" Harry repeated angrily.

"Don't," I said, resting a hand on Harry's arm. I looked back at Ron. "We'll stick to You-Know-Who. Come on, let's get you inside."

I hauled Ron to his feet by myself and caught him as he stumbled. Harry and Hermione rushed ahead of us to clear the path to the nearest lower bunk bed, and I helped Ron get situated in it. He was even more pale by the time he was settled, and he closed his eyes and fell silent, face contorted in pain.

"I'm sorry," I said, brushing Ron's sweaty hair off of his forehead. "I know it hurts. I'll be okay."

He nodded after a second, and I got to my feet to go change my appearance back to normal in the mirror of the bathroom that the tent fortunately had. By the time I emerged, Hermione had made tea, and I accepted a mug of it gratefully as I sat down at the table beside Harry.

"What d'you reckon happened to the Cattermoles?" Ron asked as he accepted the tea Hermione offered him.

Hermione sighed shakily and sat on the floor beside Ron's bed. "With any luck, they'll have gotten away. As long as Mr. Cattermole had his wits about him, he'll have transported Mrs. Cattermole by side-along apparition and they'll be fleeing the country right now with their children. That's what Harry told her to do."

"Blimey, I hope they escaped. I didn't get the feeling Reg Cattermole was all that quick-witted, though, the way everyone was talking to me when I was him. Merlin, I hope they made it... if they both end up in Azkaban because of us..."

I rested my head down on the table, still shaking, still reeling.

"So have you got it?" Harry asked after a moment.

"Got what?" Hermione replied.

"What did we just go through all that for? The locket! Where's the locket?"

I lifted my head at once. "What?"

"You got it? No one tells me anything! Blimey, you could have mentioned it!" Ron burst out.

"Well, we were running for our lives from the Death Eaters, weren't we?" Hermione retorted.

"I didn't know either, Ron, they must have gotten it while we were sorting Yaxley's office," I said quickly. "How'd you manage?"

"Harry Stunned Umbridge, I duplicated it and left her with the fake, I snatched the real one and then we led the Muggle-borns to safety and crossed paths with you two again," Hermione replied, pulling the locket out of her pocket and tossing it to Ron.

He studied it with wide eyes. "There isn't any chance someone's destroyed it since Kreacher had it? I mean, are we sure it's still a Horcrux?" He tossed it back to Hermione.

"I think so. There'd be some sign of damage if it had been magically destroyed," she said as she handed it to me.

I held it for a second before dropping it on the table. It felt alive. Holding the locket felt like holding a bomb. There was something inside it, writhing, angry, alive. "I hate it. I hate it. Don't you feel that?"

"Yeah," Ron replied with a nod. "Spooky, isn't it?"

Harry studied the Horcrux for himself. "I reckon Kreacher's right. We're going to have to work out how to open this thing before we can destroy it."

"What are we going to do with it until we figure out how?" Hermione asked.

"Keep it safe till we work out how to destroy it." He put the chain around his neck and tucked the locket into his robes. "I think we should take it in turns to keep watch outside the tent, and we'll need to think about some food as well."

"I brought some," I said.

Hermione looked up, eyes shining. "Oh, did you? I didn't even think about it, I thought we'd be going back to Grimmauld Place!"

"Well, so did I," I replied, "but on my trips to London, I always, er, exchanged goods for gold. I didn't mention it until just now because I wasn't sure how you'd all feel about it, but it's not technically stealing, the markets were always fairly compensated."

"Lucy, I could kiss you," Harry declared.

I blushed. "Best not."

Ron groaned loudly.

"Where did you get the idea?" Hermione asked, trying to help me out of the situation in which I found myself.

"I did it all the time with the twins when we needed something," I said. "We didn't know the first thing about Muggle currency, so we transfigured a bunch of Galleons into smooth gold coins as payment, then stole whatever we needed, usually in the middle of the night. Doing it in broad daylight was new, but I had the invisibility cloak to help. Anyway, I reckon I have about two weeks' worth of food in my bumbag, mostly nonperishable. No strawberries. Sorry."

Hermione giggled. "Of course not."

I reached into the pouch around my waist and emerged with a plastic bag of rolls. "These should still be fresh, I managed to grab these only a couple days ago."

"Lucy, I could kiss you," Ron said as I tossed him a roll.

"Get in line," I replied, grinning, blushing all over again.

Once we'd eaten, Harry mentioned standing watch outside the tent again.

Ron started to get up, but Hermione pushed him back down. "No. You stay here and rest."

"Hermione's right," I said, nodding.

Ron looked put-out, but he rested back against his pillows.

I offered him a crooked grin. "It's okay, Ron. If the roles were reversed, you'd be wanting me to take it easy, right? Just think about all of the times I've been the injured one, after a Quidditch match or after a full moon..."

Silence fell over the tent as everyone realized the gravity of what I'd said. Two seconds passed, three, four, five...

"Fuck," Ron said finally.

Hermione looked at me wide-eyed. "Lucy, I'm so sorry, I wasn't thinking... your transformation."

"We have two weeks to figure it out," I said. My face was on fire. Embarrassed tears crawled up my throat to my eyes. I swallowed hard. "I'll go take the first watch."

With that, I got to my feet and hurried out of the tent, not letting a tear fall until the flap had closed behind me.

Predictably, Harry followed just a couple seconds later.

"I don't want to talk about it," I choked out. "Not right now."

"Alright," he said without missing a beat. "Alright, that's alright." He dropped his voice to a whisper only I'd be able to hear. "Do you want to look at the files you stole?"

I shook my head emphatically.

"I don't want to talk about it," I whispered. "Not right now."