Relief coursed through Harry’s tired body when he saw the tall figures of Arthur Weasely and Kingsley Shacklebolt standing, wands poised, in the doorway of the destroyed flat. He hadn’t realized until this very moment how utterly, sorely wiped out he was. He propped himself up on the doorframe.
“Dad?” Ron murmured, staring at his father as it had been decades rather than days since they’d last seen each other. An expression too complicated for Harry to read crossed Mr. Weasely’s face. He clamped his hand down hard enough on Ron’s shoulder to make his son sway on his feet. It didn’t help matters that Ron had to be as exhausted as Harry was himself.
“Ron,” Mr. Weasely choked out, turning to Kingsley with a wry grin. “Harry. What in the bloody blue blazes do you lads think you’re doing here?”
“Dad, we can explain, it’s just that “”
“Mr. Weasely, it’s my fault, Ron wouldn’t have come if “”
“Harry! What d’you mean, I wouldn’t have if “”
“Alright fellows,” Kingsley interrupted with a low rumble, “Now’s not the time for semantics, Arthur. Besides, as you noted to Molly,” Kingsley raised his eyebrows, nearly smiling, “As you noted to Molly not fifteen minutes ago, the boys are of age and official Order members, as of Sunday.” Harry couldn’t believe it. The two men seemed like they were trying not to laugh.
Ron seemed to be thinking along the same lines. “Are you guys taking the mickey?”
At that, Mr. Weasely and Kingsley did burst out laughing. “No, Ron. Not at all. In fact, there’s really not much to be laughing about,” he gestured to the totaled living room, “It’s just that you kids “ sorry, young folks “ are so damned brave, you’re constantly turn we adults on our ears. That stunt that Ginny pulled, I can’t believe she took Fiora’s letter “ flew to London in the middle of the night “ well, you can imagine your mother’s reaction “ I’m surprised you can’t hear her shouting from here, in fact.” Arthur Weasely rubbed absently at his balding pate, surveying the destruction around him.
“My god, Kingsley, someone did find them,” he righted the overturned sofa, sat down heavily. “Fenrir Greyback and his cohorts, it appears.” Ron slumped down next to his father.
“There’s a leak in the Ministry, Arthur,” Harry turned to Kingsley Shacklebolt, who spoke solemnly, running his hands over the gouges in the wall. For Harry, the tall, dark man always exuded a quiet, serious intelligence that calmed him. “Your son confirmed that. Someone in the Ministry “ or, I hate to say it “ the Order. Someone’s getting and spreading information around. Maybe not someone with evil intentions “ but someone careless, someone the Minister’s got on his secret payroll.”
“What do you mean, Kingsley?” Harry’s voice came out barely above a whisper. “Are you talking about the conversation that Percy overheard the Minister having?” Ron shot him a concerned look, but Harry resigned himself to the fact that some things could no longer be secret. That, if they were all going to survive, something should no longer be secret.
“Yes, Harry,” Kingsley sighed. “The Minister is keeping tabs on you, because you didn’t offer him information voluntarily. I don’t particularly care for Scrimgeour, but I also don’t think he’s a Death Eater, or working for You-Know-Who either. But before tonight, I thought I was the only one who knew that Nymphadora and Remus would be here. This is bad “ very bad. Someone is getting important information from our side, Order information, and selling it to the Minister “ for power or money or influence,” he finished.
“You don’t “ you don’t reckon the Minister “ or his spy - told Fenrir Greyback that Lupin and Tonks would be here, do you?” Harry sputtered.
“No, no Harry. As I said, Scrimgeour isn’t my kind of leader, but he’s a decent man. And I don’t know who’s gathering information for him, but I don’t believe “ I can’t believe “ he’d work directly with a Death Eater or someone of Fenrir’s ilk. But knowledge is power, and can be just as dangerous in the hands of someone careless or greedy as it is in the hands of someone evil. Discretion is the better part of valor,” Kingsley finished.
Mr. Weasely seemed to be shaken from contemplation by this comment. “We need to alert the rest of the Order to this, fellows. And we need to find Remus and Tonks, quickly “ or I am afraid we won’t find them alive,” Arthur Weasely’s face was very pale under its smattering of freckles.
“We want to help, Mr. Weasely, whatever we can do, we will,” Harry spoke firmly. He was still itching to continue onward on his quest, and especially felt a pull to visit Godric’s Hollow, but he couldn’t do anything more until he knew that Lupin and Tonks were safe. He hoped fervently they were. And as for the Horcruxes, the rest of them would just have to wait for now, there were more important things to “ “Hermione!” Harry gasped out loud. Ron swiveled his head towards Harry, jumped to his feet.
“Dad! Kingsley! I don’t know how much “ what Ginny said to you “ we ran into some trouble at Number Twelve “ I “ Hermione “ Kreacher. We have to get to Fiora’s shop “ if, if what you say is true, Kingsley “ someone “ might’ve “ oh, god, Harry, what about Hermione? Why did we let her go on her own?” A look of pure panic crossed Ron’s face.
“Ron,” his father spoke to him in a soothing voice. “We “ erm “ we got enough information from Ginny to know that the three of you had split up. That Hermione went to Fiora’s shop. We’re going to go there now “ all of us,” Mr. Weasely stated firmly. “We’ve got other Order members meeting us there. But let’s not buy trouble beforehand, alright? Everything is probably just fine there. Fiora “ and Hermione for that matter “ are clever witches. We have to handle things calmly, ok?” Ron nodded mutely, caught Harry’s eye. Despite Arthur Weasely’s soothing tone, a feeling of dread was beginning to form in the pit of Harry’s stomach.
“Mr. Weasely? There’s something you ought to know “ erm, well, we’re pretty sure that “ that “ well, in Fiora’s letter to Lupin, it said that she had something from Wormtail, and well, we think that it’s-”
“A Horcrux, I know Harry. I was very afraid that was the case, after Kingsley and I read the letter. And don’t be upset with Ginny “ she, well, was rather in a spot to be helpful and was terribly worried about you all,” Mr. Weasely finished. “Ginny also hinted “ but refused to say any more “ that the three of you ran into some trouble at Number Twelve. Care to fill me in, Harry?”
Harry opened his mouth, not sure how to begin, but Ron interrupted him. “Harry! You can tell him later “ we have to get to Fiora’s shop now!” His best friend looked ready to bolt, with or without the rest of them.
Harry strode over to him, put a hand on his shoulder. He tried to catch Ron’s eye. “She’s alright, mate, you know that, don’t you? She’s just fine. She’ll probably be put out that we came to check on her.” He hoped this would coax a smile onto Ron’s face, but it didn’t work. Harry couldn’t blame Ron. The disquiet in his heart was building with every second. He wanted to make sure Hermione was safe as well.
Ron shrugged Harry’s hand off and strode out the door, Tonks’ green bag still clutched in his hand. His voice rebounded behind him, “We don’t know she’s fine. Nothing else is. Nothing at all.” The other three men stared at each other solemnly for a minute, then followed him out of the demolished living room, down the stairs, and into the city beyond.
* * *
Harry barely had the opportunity to gather his bearings before he heard people talking excitedly all around him. He filled his lungs with cool, late-morning air and saw Ron doing the same, brushing his hands absently over his eyebrows. Mr. Weasely and Kingsley, more accustomed to Apparating, were already striding over to another person standing in front of Fiora’s shop.
“Minerva! Hope you haven’t been waiting too long for us. Where are Mundungus and Charlie?” Kingsley called out. Harry realized with a start that it Professor McGonagall standing by the shop, her usually impassive face flushed with concern “ and Harry was surprised to see “ a touch of fear as well.
“Well, Arthur, that’s a good question,” McGonagall shook Mr. Weasely’s and Kingsley’s outstretched hands perfunctorily. “You know how Mundungus operates “ chances are, he saw something shiny of value and ‘accidentally’ got waylaid. Charlie should be here shortly “ he was at Hogwarts when I got your owl, visiting with Hagrid.” She paused, pursed her thin lips, and turned to Harry and Ron.
“Potter. Weasely. Well, it’s comforting somehow to know you’re also embroiled in trouble during the summer holidays, and not just during term,” her dark eyes twinkled as she shook each of their hands in turn. But then her face became serious again, the gleam in her eyes fearful rather than teasing. “The door’s open. I was waiting for you all to arrive before I went in. I “ I have to say, it’s not a good sign,” she shook her head, gestured towards the shop door, which hung open on its hinges.
Before anyone in the group could react, Ron was dashing into the shop, calling Hermione’s name.
“Foolish boy! He doesn’t even have his wand out!” McGonagall sprinted lithely after him, considering her age, her wand held high. Harry, Mr. Weasely and Kingsley followed.
As they entered the cluttered shop it took Harry’s eyes a few moments to adjust to the change in light. He mental steeled himself for another scene of chaos and destruction. But when his pupils dilated, Harry could see that, while the shop was cluttered and messy, nothing particularly violent appeared to have happened here.
Ron was standing a few feet from Harry, breathing heavily. “They’re not here. She’s not here!!” He pounded his fist on the nearest surface, which happened to be a precariously balanced trunk. Several layers of objects tumbled to the floor with a clatter in a puff of dust.
“Mr. Weasely, please calm down. We don’t know what happened here. I know Fiora Podlink very well, and she’s a brilliant witch. I am sure she and Miss Granger are quite alright,” but nothing in McGonagall’s face confirmed that statement. Harry could see she was worried “ very worried.
“What do you think, Minerva?” Kingsley’s soft voice rumbled. Harry watched as he and Mr. Weasely began running their wands over the stacks and cases nearby, muttering softly, looking for traces of whatever happened to Hermione and Fiora. Harry wandered over to a Ron, and grabbed his friend’s arm.
“Mate, let’s have a seat for a minute, alright?” Harry muttered. If something’s happened to her, I’ll never forgive myself…Harry was afraid Ron wouldn’t forgive him either. Ron plopped down, looking distracted and muttering to himself.
“…should’ve told her, you git, chance’s gone now, gotta find her…” Ron put his forehead on the counter. Harry noticed a piece of paper near his friend’s ginger hair. He picked it up and gasped. His mum and dad. A small, pretty blond witch. And Sirius. All of them, smiling and laughing, young and happy. Alive.
“What is it?” Ron lifted his head up and Harry handed him the photo. He took it, examined it for a minute. “That’s so weird, Hermione’s got one almost exactly like this, of the three of us and Ginny. Right by the lake and everything, you can see the giant “”
Ron suddenly reached out and grabbed another photo sitting on the counter. Someone, - either in carelessness or haste or fear “ had spilled tea across it. It shook in Ron’s hand, drops of liquid flying off of it. Harry stilled his friend’s wrist, and stared at the picture of the four of them, his heart aching. Very tenderly, Ron took his wand out and siphoned the picture dry. Harry didn’t look at his friend, but stared at the picture instead.
Another, new drop of moisture hit the picture, splashing onto their smiling faces. “Hermione,” Ron whispered, whisking the tell-tale streak of wetness from his cheek.
The Time is Now by Hermione816
Chapter Notes: Harry and Ron ran into reinforcements at Lupin and Tonk's Parisian flat - which is a good thing, considering what they're going to find at Fiora's shop...