“Can you believe it? She practically insisted, but I was too busy being noble to listen,” Harry said, smirking. “Who’d have thought all it would take was some gold dress robes and a push-up bra.”
“The dress robes were more an act of rebellion, really,” Ginny said, sighing. She held tightly to Harry’s hand as they walked back towards the tent, as if afraid to let him go. “They can stuff me into it, despite the fact that it’s designed for someone who is eleven, but the fact remains that I’m not eleven. I’m not a little girl anymore, and my body is going to burst out of it.”
“It’s bursting just fine,” Harry said cheekily.
Ginny smacked him on the arm. “Prat. It’s only an illusion, you know. Once the bra comes off, everything settles right back down where it was.”
Harry grinned. “That’s okay. I always looked; I just didn’t get caught as much.”
Ginny giggled and hugged him around the waist. He wrapped his arm around her, and they entered the tent. Jean-Luc immediately made a beeline towards them.
“Zere you are, Ginny. I have been looking everywhere for you,” he said, looking slightly irritated.
“No time to chat now, Jean-Luc,” Harry said, handing him their empty glasses. “I promised my girlfriend the next dance.”
He swung Ginny onto the dance floor, completely ignoring the stunned expression on the Frenchman’s face.
Ginny laughed fully, and Harry realized for the first time that he hadn’t heard that real laugh of Ginny’s since he’d arrived at the Burrow. It was like music to his ears. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Gabrielle watching them with a sad smile. When she noticed Harry watching her, she raised her chin and smiled bravely. Harry smiled back, mouthing the words, ‘Thank you.’ She truly had given him the shove he needed. Gabrielle straightened her posture and winked before blending into the crowd.
They danced to several more songs, completely oblivious to the fond stares they were receiving from some of the other guests and ignoring anyone – the twins in particular – who tried to interrupt them. As the night began to wear down, some of the guests began to depart, leaving more empty space on the dance floor.
When some loud bangs were heard from outside the tent, Harry thought Fred and George had ignored their mother’s warnings about not bringing any Weasley Whiz Bangs to the affair. It was only after the screaming started that he realized something was terribly wrong.
The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end as he spun toward the entrance. Ginny was right beside him with her wand already drawn.
“Stay beside me,” he hissed, beginning to walk towards the tent opening. He cursed himself for becoming so involved in the drama of his personal life that he’d completely ignored that feeling of unease that had plagued him this morning.
His eyes scanned the room quickly, but he couldn’t see Ron or Hermione anywhere. As he reached the tent’s entrance, he immediately knew what was happening, despite the fact that several members of the Order were glancing around wildly with their wands drawn, searching for the cause of the disturbance.
There had been many wards placed around the Burrow, not only to protect the Weasleys, but also due to the fact that Harry had been staying there. Additional wards had been placed in preparation for this wedding, and while they kept the Death Eaters outside the perimeter, they had no effect on Dementors.
Harry could already hear his mother’s distant screaming in his head as he strode outside the tent.
“Anyone who can cast a Patronus, do it now,” he bellowed. “We’ve got Dementors coming from that direction,” he said, raising his wand towards the other side of the meadow. “Expecto Patronum.”
Prongs leapt from his wand and charged toward the tree line. Immediately, he could see several other Patronuses following in that direction, as well. Ginny’s tiger erupted from her wand a moment later.
“Are you certain, Harry?” Kingsley Shacklebolt asked, trying to herd some of the screaming guests away from the tent and back to the Apparition point. In their panic, some of the guests were running right toward the Dementors.
“I’m certain,” Harry replied grimly.
“How do you know? I don’t see any of them.” Kingsley said.
“Trust him,” Ginny replied, looking pale and strained. “He’s right. I can hear it now, too.”
Sirius’s voice entered Harry’s mind, growing clearer by the second.
“There,” he said, pointed at a spot in the trees. Several of the hooded, black-cloaked figures were emerging onto the meadow, and their numbers appeared to be growing at an alarming rate.
Harry cast another Patronus and shouted at Mrs. Weasley, who had just emerged from the tent, her face a mixture of fear and rage. “Mrs. Weasley, get anyone who can’t cast a Patronus back to the Apparition point and get them out of here. Arrange some portkeys to go to headquarters for anyone who can’t Apparate. Who is the new Secret Keeper?”
“Minerva,” Mrs. Weasley said. She appeared slightly stunned, and Harry’s heart lurched in sympathy. She’d worked so hard for this wedding.
“But, Harry, we can’t send them there; it’s supposed to be secret,” she said nervously.
“As long as it’s under the Fidelius Charm no one can tell its location, anyway. Besides, it’s my house, and I like the idea of it being used as a place to house refugees,” Harry said, directing Prongs towards another Dementor.
“But-”
“Mrs. Weasley, there’s no time. We have to get everyone out of here.” Harry suspected that Mrs. Weasley’s arguments had more to do with whoever the Order was hiding at Grimmauld Place, rather than a concern for headquarters. In normal circumstances, she most likely would have demanded the evacuees be sent there.
“You’re right; I’m on it. Ginny, you come with me,” Mrs. Weasley said, squaring her shoulders.
“No, Mum,” Ginny said. Her voice trembled slightly, but her eyes were firm.
“Ginny, this is no time to argue,” Mrs. Weasley said, grabbing her daughter by the arm.
Ginny pulled away from her grasp. “Exactly. I can cast a Patronus, Mum. I’m needed here.”
Mrs. Weasley’s resolve wavered. She looked indecisive for a moment before a Dementor appeared directly beside her.
“Expecto Patronum,” Ginny bellowed, and her tiger mowed down her mother’s attacker. “Go now, Mum.”
Mrs. Weasley looked one more time at Ginny and Harry with despairing eyes before turning and hurrying toward the house.
A loud, clanging sound filled the night air, reverberating across the open meadow.
“What was that?” Harry shouted, glancing around wildly.
“I think it’s the wards coming down,” Ginny replied grimly.
“Great. Have they started clearing any of those people out yet?” Harry shouted over the noise of the battle now taking place.
Ginny looked over towards the direction of the house, squinting her eyes to see. “Some. A lot of people have had a bit to drink so they’re arguing. Some are just panicking. I can see Mum and Professor McGonagall trying to move everyone. The crowd has thinned some, but not a lot.”
Flames could now be seen around the perimeter, and the scent of smoke was rapidly filling the air. Harry stared around hopelessly. He could see various Order members on the front line, trying to hold back the
Dementors. Several of the soul-sucking demons had breached the line and were moving toward the tent. He could see the Death Eaters, as well. Their masked shapes were creeping from the shadows and casting spells to weaken the wards, Harry assumed.
Squinting his eyes to try and see through the smoke, he could tell that even the Patronuses were weakening the wards. It wouldn’t hold much longer. The members of the Order looked tired and drained.
He could see Fleur, her beautiful white wedding robes streaked with dirt and Auntie Muriels’s tiara askew on her head, standing firm and firing off her butterfly Patronus as she covered Bill. Bill was hunched down and waving his wand in intricate patterns. Harry assumed he was attempting to strengthen the wards.
Staring desperately at the chaos around him, it occurred to Harry that he still hadn’t seen either Ron or Hermione, and the feeling of hopelessness began to build in his chest.
Where are they? And how am I going to stop this from happening?
Chapter Five
And Life Goes On
An unearthly fog covered the length of the Weasley meadow, where only moments before a celebration of life had been taking place. The floating candles had all been extinguished by the cold, damp fog that always accompanied the presence of Dementors. Shouts and muffled grunts mixed with the sounds of rapid spellfire as those guests who had chosen to stay and fight attempted to hold back the approaching Dementors. Death Eaters could be seen gathering along the edge of the forest, casting a barrage of spells and further weakening the already strained wards.
Harry was cold and feeling slightly dizzy from the intensity of the memories flashing through his mind. His teeth chattered as he moved quickly toward the crouched figures of Fleur and Bill, Ginny’s hand held firmly in his own. He could feel her small body trembling, and he knew the Dementors were affecting her as badly as they were him.
"What are you doing ‘ere, ‘Arry?" Fleur hissed, directing her butterfly Patronus toward the direction Harry had just sent Prongs. Her beautiful white wedding robes were smeared with dirt and mud, and one sleeve looked as if it had been singed. "If zose Death Eaters do get in, zey will come right for you. You should evacuate now."
"I’m not leaving," Harry said firmly, his eyes locked with Bill’s. This was as much his home as any other place he’d ever stayed, and he would not leave it without a fight. He saw a look of acceptance and understanding flash on Bill’s scarred face, and he was grateful for it.
Finally, someone who wouldn’t treat him as if he were a child.
Bill nodded, and Fleur apparently took this as reason enough to cease her demands. Auntie Muriel’s tiara remained perched on her head, shimmering as the lights from various spells illuminated it. The
thought rose unbidden in Harry’s mind that it was Ginny’s right to wear that one day, and he’d see to it that she got the chance.
"What are you trying to do?" he asked.
Bill sighed heavily, and Harry was struck by how strained and exhausted the eldest Weasley sibling appeared. The scars lining his face stood out starkly against the paleness of his skin. "The wards around the Burrow are failing. That loud clanging sound and the flickering lights that appear every few seconds are indications that the wards are about to collapse. I’m trying to strengthen them, but I don’t know if I can."
"Strengthen them how?" Harry asked.
"I designed the framework for these wards by using strength from the positive emotions that I feel for the Burrow," Bill said, and Harry could easily envision him as a Professor of Ancient Runes. "The wards are capable of being strengthened by transferring power from a witch or wizard connected to the place within the boundaries. I reckoned that one of us would always be here in case of an attack and could use our emotions to power it. I hadn’t expected the sheer number of spells being cast in each direction, however. The Burrow has always been crowded, but not this crowded."
"So, anyone who feels strongly about the Burrow could do it?" Harry asked, furrowing his brow.
"Anyone who feels positively about it, yes. It takes a lot of power, Harry, which is why I can’t even stand up right now," Bill warned. "I don’t think I have the strength to hold them up much longer."
Fleur placed her hand protectively on Bill’s shoulder.
"What if we try to do it together?" Harry asked, and now he felt Ginny’s hand on his own shoulder.
Bill looked at Harry uncertainly, his eyes flicking back and forth between his sister and Harry. Harry though he appeared vaguely uncomfortable, but he couldn’t dwell on that now.
"Look, I love this place as if it were my own, and you said yourself that what you’re doing now isn’t going to work," Harry said with a hint of annoyance.
"I don’t have time to teach you all the spells and wand movements in a few seconds, Harry, but I think I can continue casting them by using your strength and transferring it to the wards," Bill said contemplatively. "Head to that hill over there and climb to the top; that way, we can cover the whole area. On my signal, you have to project all the positive emotion and anything good you feel about this place into your thoughts. I’ll take it from there. Make certain to have some cover, though, as this will leave you feeling very drained."
"I want to help, too. I’ll go with you," Ginny said immediately, her eyes glinting with determination.
"No. Stay and help Fleur cover Bill; he’s more exposed here, and we can’t lose more than one Patronus while I’m up there," Harry replied, knowing she’d hate the answer.
Ginny frowned and stared back and forth between Harry and Bill, lying on the ground. Finally, she looked out across the meadow at the pitifully few Patronuses struggling to hold back the surging Dementors. Nodding, she squared her shoulders and whispered, "Be careful," before kissing him fiercely.
"You, too," Harry replied, squeezing her hand once.
He turned, crouching down low and running behind some of the others, as he moved carefully toward the small hill that Bill had indicated. He stumbled several times as waves of Dementor-inspired memories crashed over him. By the time he’d climbed the hill and reached the right spot, he was panting from exertion.
He could barely distinguish Bill and Ginny through the smoke, but thank Merlin for that red hair; he could spot it anywhere. He’d also been able to spot the twins standing near the perimeter with Tonks, her wolf Patronus signaling their position. He wished he could see Remus, but that search would have to wait.
When Bill sent red sparks into the air, Harry shut his eyes and channeled every positive thought and memory he had about the Burrow into the front of his mind. He had many to choose from and started focusing on memories of the Burrow connected with all that lived there.
He remembered the wonder and awe he’d felt as a twelve-year old coming to stay here for the first time. He’d learned so much that summer, not only about the wizarding world, but also about how it felt to really be a part of a family. He’d experienced how it felt to belong and not simply be cast aside as a nuisance.
He remembered the smell of freshly baked scones, roasted chicken, treacle tart, steak and kidney pie and all his other favorite foods that Mrs. Weasley had quickly discovered and always served in ample supply. He remembered the feeling of pleasure he’d felt that first time she’d washed and darned his socks right along with Ron’s and her other children’s. She’d folded them and put them back in his trunk, and he’d sat there in slack-jawed amazement for a full minute until Ron had asked him what was wrong. Aunt Petunia had usually just given him the socks once Dudley poked holes in them; Mrs. Weasley had actually mended them for him.
Harry took a deep, steadying breath and continued focusing on his memories.
He remembered Mr. Weasley’s shed, full of more electrical sockets than anyone could ever need in a lifetime, and the elder man’s open glee over sharing his discoveries. He remembered not only being asked his opinion for the first time, but also actually feeling as if his answer mattered.
Harry’s legs shook as he stumbled but managed to remain upright.
He remembered Quidditch matches in the meadow, tossing gnomes in the garden, and the camaraderie of a slap on the back from a group of redheads that had treated him as another brother, rather than the freak in the cupboard. He had laughed here, really laughed and enjoyed the summers for the first time in his young life.
Harry’s legs finally gave out, and he stumbled to the ground, panting heavily. He was tired, and his head ached, but he pushed the positive memories through and battled against those the Dementors tried to force to the front.
He remembered the face of the prettiest girl he’d ever seen smiling at him warmly in greeting, her eyes alight with such warmth, compassion and downright orneriness he thought he could drown in their depth. He remembered kissing her barely an hour before, and the feeling that he could do anything as long as she remained in his arms.
Harry needed his arms to support his weight now, yet still he pushed the memories and emotions forward.
This was the home of his best friend, the friend who’d opened his arms wide and shared his family with a lonely boy who’d never had even a glimpse of such a life. It was the home of the girl he loved, the girl who loved him enough to let him go. It was the home of the family that had stood by him and believed in him when no one else had, and he would not allow it to be taken from them now.
Not if he could help it.
A loud surge of blinding light illuminated the meadow for a brief moment, and Harry had to shut his eyes against the glare. A whoop of joy that unmistakably belonged to one of the twins filled the air and caused Harry to blink dazedly. Shouts of glee filled the night, and Harry became aware that his body was no longer chilled. He could find no trace of the Dementors.
He lay on the ground, panting, for a moment, trying to summon the energy to stand. He could see Prongs cantering back towards him and running with a small Jack Russell terrier Patronus that he knew belonged to Ron.
Ron was all right! He was somewhere in this chaos, and hopefully that would mean Hermione was all right, as well.
He recognized most of the faces remaining in the meadow and hoped that meant that Mrs. Weasley had managed to help the other guests escape. He fought against the dimness trying to encroach upon his vision, shaking his head in an attempt to clear it. The motion caused his world to tilt alarmingly, and for a moment he thought he might get sick. He had just managed to control his nausea with a few deep breaths when Ginny appeared by his side.
"Harry!" she shouted, dropping to her knees beside him and cradling his head in her lap while gently running her fingers through his hair. "Are you all right? Oh, you poor thing. Bill said you’d be exhausted. You did it, Harry! You really did it. You were magnificent."
Harry grinned and leaned into her touch. "It worked then, yeah?"
"It worked splendidly," Ginny replied, her eyes bright with excitement. "Not only did you strengthen the wards, but you somehow pushed them even further back and forced the Dementors out, as well. I literally saw one Death Eater’s body being flung through the air. You were brilliant, Harry. Even Bill is impressed, and it takes a lot to impress him. I wouldn’t be surprised if he offers you a job after you leave Hogwarts."
"Yeah? Harry Potter, Curse Breaker, eh?" Harry said, managing a weak smile. "Maybe if being an Auror doesn’t work out for me."
"Let’s get you back to the house where you can rest. Do you think you can stand?" Ginny asked.
Harry tried to rise on his elbows but couldn’t manage to make his body respond and flopped back onto the ground. "Right here is fine," he said, fighting to keep his eyes open. Suddenly, he felt his world tilt again as he was scooped up into thick, heavily muscled arms.
"Come on, Harry. Let’s get you out of here," Charlie Weasley said. "Ginny can say thanks by snogging your brains out later."
"She said I was magnificent," Harry said, slurring his words.
"Yeah, well, don’t let it go to your head, mate. She said you were a hopeless idiot yesterday. She’s always been temperamental, that one," Charlie replied, grinning.
"Hey!" Ginny cried, slapping her brother on the arm. "I’m right here, you know."
Despite his closed eyes, Harry could tell Ginny was smiling. He was too tired to care that Charlie was carrying him to the Burrow, so he just let his body relax, and the dimness on the edge of his vision covered his eyes completely.
The tinkling of glass, the drone of muted music, and the distant peals of laughter were the sounds Harry heard as he slowly drifted back to awareness. He was warm and comfortable and felt more secure than he had in quite some time. He wasn’t willing to give that up by opening his eyes just yet.
"Exactly how long are you going to pretend to still be asleep, Harry?" Ginny asked. He could hear the amusement in her voice as that sweet, flowery scent he always associated with her wafted across his nostrils. "You’re not hurt, and being too tired is no excuse to deny me the dancing that was promised me."
"We danced," Harry said, smiling but keeping his eyes closed.
"Barely! You’ll have to do better than that to keep me satisfied," she said primly.
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