Incognisant of the sound of grass crunching beneath his shoes, Louis ran out of the still-ajar door. –Lucy!†he called. –Lucy, where are you?†He wasn’t sure whether he’d actually expected an answer, but one never came. Not willing to give in so easily, he called once again, –Lucy!†With no sign of acknowledgment yet again, he delved deeper into the farthest reaches of the grounds, still with no sign.
Soon, he hit the perimeter of the property, which was lined with sentries every hundred feet. Finding the nearest one, Louis hailed, –Oi!†Unfazed by the uniformed hit wizard instinctively drawing his wand, he said, –Have you seen anyone leave in the past couple minutes?â€
The hit wizard shook his head. –No one could have done, lad. If anyone at all who wasn’t an invited guest passed through the barrier, the alarm would’ve sounded.â€
–But what about anyone who was invited?â€
With a shrug, the guard replied, –Guests are free to come and go. There’s not really any way to tell other than if someone saw them.â€
Annoyed at the dismissive tone in the hit wizard’s voice, Louis said, –Then why don’t you just humour me and find out.â€
–Fine,†the man said before pulling a medallion out of his pocket, which Louis recognised as his Magical Law Enforcement badge. He tapped it with his wand before passing his hand over its surface so the device would recognise its proper owner. –This is how we communicate in the field.â€
Louis shot the hit wizard a scathing glance. –Half my family works in the Ministry. I know what it is, so don’t patronise me.â€
There was a momentary flash of irritation in the other man’s eyes before he reverted to staring at his badge and waiting for a response. After a couple minutes, he squinted and said, –The Corner family arrived about ten minutes ago . . . adult female, two adult males -- one father, one son. About a half hour ago, Undersecretary David Dungeoness left, but he came back ten minutes later. Other than that, no one’s come and gone in the past half hour.â€
–So, how do the wards know who’s come and gone, or are you relying on what you see personally?â€
–They detect magic, just like the Trace. Which, I might add, you’ll likely be getting an owl about tomorrow morning.â€
Wanting to shout at the man, Louis said, –But what about Lucy? How would this thing know if she’s left or not?â€
Frowning in confusion, the man said, –The Minister’s daughter? What about her?â€
–She’s a Squib, you idiot!†Louis had to dig his fingernails into his palms to keep from throwing an ill-advised punch at the hit wizard. –Your job is to protect the Minister’s family, so you would think one would bother knowing a little bit about them first. If she gets hurt because of you incompetent lot of --â€
–Now that’s enough!†called a familiar voice from behind Louis.
Slightly ashamed of his tone, Louis said contritely, –Uncle Harry.â€
Harry held up his badge and said, –I get notified if anyone accesses the guest manifest. Care to tell me what this is all about?†He wasn’t looking at his employee; he was looking at Louis.
Finally, someone arrived who would take Louis seriously. –It’s Lucy. She’s missing.â€
–It’s hard to find people in a crush, I know, but that doesn’t mean she’s missing.â€
Even Harry was talking down to him, and it made Louis want to hex the next person who treated him like an eight-year-old. –She wasn’t in the ballroom. She was with me in the kitchen.†He then recounted the events after he’d gone to the bathroom.
Looking back toward the house, Harry was finally taking note of Louis’s concern. –And you didn’t touch anything, right?â€
–’Course not. I’m not an idiot,†Louis replied, though he had to do so while trotting after Harry, who had begun to briskly walk back toward the house. –What do you need me to do?†he asked, desperate to have something with which to occupy his brain other than the borderline illness that was threatening.
Holding out his arm to halt Louis’s forward progress, Harry said, –Stay behind me. I’m not taking any chances.†When Harry drew his wand, a cold mask of concentration overtook his normally kind features, and Louis felt compelled to do as he was told, drawing his own wand for good measure. Once Harry saw that his instructions were being followed, he proceeded toward the kitchen door, albeit at a more deliberate pace. When they were mere feet from their intended destination, Harry held up his hand, a clear signal to stop.
Pointing toward the remnants of the shattered windowpane, Harry said, –What do you see?â€
At first, Louis thought it was a ridiculous question, but when he looked at the mess with a different perspective, he mumbled, –There is more glass on the outside than the inside.â€
–Exactly.â€
Louis’s brain stalled in coming to the conclusion that Harry was obviously angling for from him, but after a few moments, it finally morphed into some semblance of sense. –So, the window was broken from the inside.†From there, however, he was able to postulate far more efficiently. –That means that, if someone took her, they were already inside the house.â€
Nodding, Harry took his own badge out and tapped it with his wand. –I’m calling in a crime scene unit, just to be on the safe side. Don’t. Touch. Anything.â€
Flushing, Louis said, –In the interest of honesty, I, um… sort of walked through the glass already.â€
–I know,†said Harry, who had begun tip-toeing through the mess. –I followed the trail of chunks all the way up to where you were berating Lawson.†With an agile leap, he cleared the rest of the debris and landed deftly in the kitchen. –Which, I might add in the interest of honesty, is actually an arrestable offence if a criminal investigation is involved.â€
–You can arrest me later,†Louis grunted as he followed Harry’s path, although not nearly as deftly. –When I know Lucy is safe and sound, I don’t care what you do to me.â€
Harry gave him a sympathetic smile before resuming his visual perusal of the scene. Indicating the beads strewn across the floor, he said, –See the pattern in where they landed?†When Louis shook his head, Harry continued, –They’re fairly concentrated in how they’ve fallen, which means they weren’t, well, flung, like they would’ve been if they’d been pulled. It looks like someone might’ve pushed them off the string, rather than it having been snapped.â€
–How could you possibly tell any of that?†Louis was in awe that so little could tell Harry so much.
With a chortle, Harry said, –I’ve been an Auror for over twenty-five years. If I can’t do basic forensics, they should just sack me right now.†Still concentrating on the task at hand, he pointed toward the broken door. –When the boys in the crime lab get here, they have a gadget that can actually tell how tall the person was who broke the window by the glass spray pattern.â€
–Are you serious?â€
–Absolutely. You can thank your Aunt Hermione for that one. She invented it after she did some research on Muggle crime-solving techniques.†Harry scanned the room one more time before pulling a small notebook from his pocket and scribbling some things down. After that, however, he turned back to Louis. –Now, this is the harder part. I need to know why you were in here and not in the ballroom.â€
–It was for Lucy. She’s got this thing about being in big crowds. She started having a sort of panic attack, so I brought her in here to relax for a bit. I went to the bathroom, and the rest, you know.â€
Frowning, Harry asked, –Did anyone else see her having a problem before you left?â€
–Not likely. Everyone was watching the podium, and she was pretty far in the back as it was.â€
–And how was it that you noticed when no one else did?â€
–Because no one else besides her parents know about it, since she thinks it’s embarrassing. I found out the day we both went to Diagon Alley for Hogwarts supplies.†Lowering his voice, Louis said, –I told her I wouldn’t tell anyone, but considering the circumstances…â€
Nodding, Harry said, –Noted.†He wrote a few more things in his notebook before asking the one thing that Louis had hoped he’d leave out. –Care to tell me why you seem so keenly concerned about where she’s gone barely ten minutes after it happened? You didn’t seem so bothered when your sister got lost for an entire day at the Burrow.â€
–Lucy’s different,†Louis said, careful not to betray one of the thousands of reasons he could think of as to why he was so attached to Lucy’s safety. –If she gets lost, she can’t find her way back like you or I can. And who knows what’s out there.†He was satisfied with the vagueness of his answer.
–I see,†Harry replied cryptically. Â
Ignoring what felt like an implication, Louis changed the subject to what he hoped was a safer topic. –So, are we going to tell Uncle Percy now, or are we going to wait until your guys can do a proper search?â€
Harry exhaled heavily. –We’re going to have to tell him. I had really, really hoped that you were overreacting, but I can’t ignore what’s in front of me.â€
At that statement, Louis’s heart sank a little. Whatever confirmation of the situation he had sought, he’d just been given it. If the Head Auror felt that interrupting the Minister of Magic’s big night was necessary, then there was not much of a chance in his mind that Lucy had just popped off for a walk, managed not to be seen, and just happened to break her necklace and a window while she was at it.
Within a couple minutes, a group of Magical Law Enforcement officers, wearing matching sky-blue robes, trotted into the kitchen and made their way straight toward Harry. There was a hushed and intense discussion, and they hung on Harry’s every word. Louis would’ve done anything to have a set of Extendable Ears at that moment, as he had obviously been left out of the conversation on purpose. The closest thing he had to being able to follow along was when, here and there, one of them would cast a glance at a piece of evidence with an assessing eye. It had been disconcerting, however, when he was the subject of that scrutiny at one point.
Soon, the group of crime scene investigators disbursed and began a methodical perusal of the room and nearby environs. Louis was content to watch and see if anything pertinent that Harry hadn’t shared would come to light, but before he could settle in and watch, he felt a hand clasp around his arm. –Best to stay out of their way,†said Harry, of whom Louis had lost track a few minutes prior. –They’ve got this handled. I’m going to take you back to your Mum and Dad, and then I . . . –
Harry didn’t finish, and he didn’t have to; Louis knew far too well what Harry had to do. It couldn’t have been a small task to tell a child’s parents that their baby was missing. No doubt this wasn’t the first time that Harry had been forced to do it, but this was Lucy. Family.
Before Louis even had a chance to process the fact that his feet were moving, he was back in the ballroom. Still being held by his upper arm, he stood there with Harry as Bill and Fleur spun to a halt near them. The couple’s joviality quickly fizzled when they saw the expression on Harry’s face.
–Harry, has he done something?â€
–No, Bill. I’m afraid not.†In the way that adults often did, Harry pulled Bill and Fleur to the side, presumably to recount the events leading up to Lucy’s disappearance. The audible gasp from Louis’s mother was enough to confirm that bit of speculation. And it didn’t take long for the news to filter through the crowd, especially when the next thing that Harry did was interrupt Percy’s speech by curtly casting a Silencing Spell around them for all to see yet not understand.
However, as he observed his uncles conversing, Louis knew exactly what Percy felt. Fear. Outrage. Terror on his daughter’s behalf. And trepidation -- lots and lots of it. The more Louis saw of Lucy’s stuffy, uptight father slowly losing, the more the reality sunk in. This was really happening, and she was really missing. And this was expounded further as he watched the party guests make the slow exodus toward the exit, whispers of speculation ripe in the air. Louis’s own name cropped up a few times, as well as any number of wild speculations as to how Lucy could’ve gone missing and why.
But none of that mattered. As Louis was shuffled off by his own parents, he couldn’t help but pray to whatever powers moved the universe that Lucy would come back to her family, come back to him.
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* * *
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This was the final time that Louis would ever pack for Hogwarts. On the surface, it was just like every other time he had done it. He was still trying to ignore his father’s suggestions for supplemental NEWT reading and dodge his mother’s insistence that he find himself a girlfriend for once. He was still stowing three months’ detentions’ worth of Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes products, most of which he would never actually find the nerve to use.
And he was still going to leave without Lucy. That thought alone stilled his hands and brought back that seemingly ever-present feeling of guilt that had followed him around for the past year. One month after her disappearance, he had returned to school for sixth-year, certain that he would get that owl from his parents or his Uncle Harry, telling him that they had found Lucy and that she was home safe.
But as term dragged on, he knew the likelihood of this decreased by the day. Several people, most notably his professors, noticed the change in both his demeanour and his marks, but they wouldn’t have understood what was troubling him. And forget the number of cousins who tried to cajole him into spilling his innermost thoughts. ‘But you can talk to me’, they all said in some fashion, but he managed to fend them off either by refusing to talk or with outright rudeness. Eventually, everyone just left him alone. Because, wherever she was, Lucy was alone and cut off from everything she knew. It wasn’t fair that he got to carry on.
A soft knock on Louis’s bedroom door jarred his flagging concentration on the task at hand. He resumed mechanically stuffing things into the trunk before calling out, –Come in.†He could tell without looking that it was his dad by the long squeak generated by the door hinges, since his mum would’ve just breezed in. –Dad,†Louis acknowledged without looking up from his packing.
When Bill didn’t say anything, Louis suspected that he wouldn’t like what he was about to hear. –Out with it, Dad. I’ve got to finish this up.â€
–I just talked to Harry.â€
–Oh?†Louis murmured, trying not to betray the fact that his stomach had just tied itself into a large knot. –What about?â€
However, the way he always had, Bill didn’t seem to buy it. –You know what it was about.†He sighed heavily, and Louis didn’t like the sound of that at all. –It’s about Lucy.â€
After so long. Louis had run out of the ability to deal with constant disappointment when it came to news, or lack thereof, about Lucy. For months, he had asked nearly every day for updates about the search, and every single time, he got a variation on the same vague answer. His first Hogsmeade weekend after being certified to Apparate had been spent visiting the Auror Department illicitly, only to get the same news that he had got on every other occasion. After a while, he had learnt to stop asking.
But this was different. No one had ever approached him with an offering of an update on the case. Judging by his father’s tone, though, it wasn’t going to be good news. Putting down the stack of shirts he had been sorting, Louis said, –Whatever it is, I can handle it, you know.†He was surprised at the evenness of his own voice, considering how far from calm and collected he really was.
–They’re calling off the search.â€
Bill’s words landed like a Stunning Spell in the centre of Louis’s chest. He didn’t know what was worse, the dread he had felt when he though that he’d be told Lucy was dead or the idea that they weren’t even going to be looking for her anymore. But that didn’t stop him from wanting to hex someone into a pulp. Even his dad was looking like a tempting target.
Apparently sensing the discord in his youngest child, Bill said, –Now, son, I know this isn’t easy --â€
–You don’t know anything!†Louis snapped. –You don’t have a clue what it’s been like for her, being left behind every year when her sister goes to Hogwarts, when all of us get to go. She’s stuck in a world that doesn’t even know what to do with her.â€
Shaking his head, Bill said, –That’s not fair, Louis. Even Percy has agreed that there is little likelihood that she’s still --â€
–So that’s it then? She’s just . . . gone to all of us now. Without so much as a scrap of evidence that she’s even . . . dead.†Louis choked out the last word with full reluctance. He felt sick. Bill tried to smile reassuringly, but Louis found the effort lacked the desired effect.
–I’m sorry, son. I really am.†Bill stood and clenched his hand on his youngest’s shoulder. –Try and get some sleep. It’ll be a long day tomorrow.â€
As his father left, Louis knew that little rest would be coming to him that night. The idea had turned over in his head for several weeks by this point, but this latest development was all he needed to set it in motion. It was with a purpose that he resumed his packing, but instead of adding things to his trunk, he began removing them. The books and the school robes were the first to go, followed by his Gobstones set and a large chunk of his stationery supply. In the place of these, he added several more changes of clothing, a sleeping bag, and the bag of Galleons he had been reserving for this very eventuality.
Once these tasks were completed, Louis lay in his bed, staring at the ceiling. As fatigue finally took its toll and dragged his eyelids downward, his mind swirled back to another day, another time, another place:
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The girl blushed and turned her head away. The boy feared that he had gone too far, had crossed an uncrossable barrier. Hesitantly, he reached out his hand and covered hers with his much larger palm. Relief nearly choked him when she didn’t pull away.
–Are you . . .  ashamed?†he asked quietly.
This caused the girl’s head to whip around and meet his eyes with a seldom-shown ferocity. –Don’t. Just don’t.â€
Confused, the boy said, –I didn’t mean --â€
–Don’t put words in my mouth,†she said sternly, never blinking or averting her gaze.
–Then you . . .†He didn’t dare hope . . . .
Her fingers laced into his, and she squeezed hard. –Biscuits and shooting stars.â€
At the nearly forgotten memory, the boy smiled widely at the girl. –Biscuits and shooting stars.â€
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Louis awoke from his patchy night’s sleep hours before necessary, if only to have some semblance of control over his brain’s activity. Pulling himself from bed, he rubbed his burning eyes and stumbled toward the bathroom for a shower.
The hot water didn’t do much to awaken him, and several times, Louis found himself snapping back to consciousness whilst standing up. But, he thought, blanking out is better than the alternative. He definitely didn’t want to keep dreaming about things -- or rather, people -- he ought not be dreaming about. Plus, if he was to have any focus at all on the task at hand, he couldn’t afford to be distracted by his on mental meanderings, especially when they strayed in one particular direction.
He wrapped himself in his dressing gown and headed toward the kitchen for coffee. Normally, he hated it, but he was tired and the day was important. It wasn’t surprising to find his mother already up and sipping on a cup of the very beverage he sought. Pouring a mug of his own, he sat across from her and picked up the edition of the Daily Prophet that normally awaited his dad in the morning. The headline was the same as it always was on the First of September: the rather redundant announcement that the new Hogwarts term was starting and a list of the children attending by year.
When he spied his own name in the seventh-years’ column, Louis’s lips twitched. It made him think of the shining prefect’s badge that lay nestled amongst his discarded Hogwarts robes. No doubt his absence would send the ever-stuffy Head Girl, Ravenclaw Wilhelmina Cox, into a frenzy of confusion, apprehension, and perhaps a little bit of rage.
–À quoi penses-tu?†Fleur asked, startling Louis from his musings.
–Rien,†he replied absently. –C’est un jour important.â€
–Oui.â€
Louis could sense that his mother knew that something other than jitters over his last first-day of term was pecking at his insides. She had insight in that area that was borderline uncanny. But as his ability to lie was his greatest adversary at the moment, he merely nodded and immersed himself in pretending to read the sports page.
Fleur sighed. She tugged the paper from his hand and said, –Je sais que tu te sens coupable pour Lucy, mais tu es seulement un homme. Ce n'est pas ta responsabilité d'arranger les choses.â€
Louis wanted so badly to heed his mother’s words. She was, as usual, right. He did feel guilty for being safe when Lucy was not, and no one could rightly expect him to bring her home on his own. But even this couldn’t change his resolution to do what he could in spite of being ‘just a boy’. He still couldn’t bring himself to lie to his mum, so he uttered a cryptic, –It is what it is,†in English before setting into his cup of coffee. Thankfully, Fleur did not pursue the matter and left him to his thoughts and his Quidditch scores.
For the rest of the morning, Louis managed to dodge any further unsolicited advice about Lucy or Hogwarts or anything else he didn’t want to talk about, and half past ten, the time they set to leave, came rather quickly. As the magical gateway to Platform Nine-and-Three-Quarters had lost its lustre a few years back, the family opted to Apparate straight onto the Platform and take advantage of Louis’s ill-used Apparition license.
The flocks of excited younger students did not faze Louis at all. He used to watch them and smile, and in recent years, wonder if Lucy’s face would’ve been similar had she ever partaken in the journey to Hogwarts. It was that memory which fortified his resolve as he pasted a grin on his face and mingled with his cousins as he was expected to do.
Finally, the train began to board, and Louis uttered his farewells to his parents, feeling slightly guilty for what he was about to do. But he was sure they would understand someday, as they had both fought for loved ones in the biggest wizarding battle of the modern age. No one was fighting for Lucy anymore, so he would because he must, and because he loved her.
The train rolled on as Louis occupied a carriage to himself. Concentrating deeply, he cast a Shrinking Charm on his trunk and hoped that the contents would survive the transformation. When it had been reduced to the size of a small stack of books, he clutched it to his chest and started toward the carriage door. It was then that he nearly slammed into Eddie Wentworth, a fifth-year Hufflepuff prefect.
–I was just looking for you. You missed the meeting in the prefect’s carriage.†Eddie paused, waiting for Louis’s gasp of horror at the lapse in behaviour. When none came, he proceeded anyway. –Willie wants you to take the first three carriages to patrol for the first third of the trip, and then someone will relieve you.â€
Nodding as if he had hung on to every word, Louis patted Eddie on the shoulder and said, –Right, right. Thank you for letting me know. I’ll be sure to get right on that.â€
Once Eddie left, Louis rolled his eyes. Of all the stupid things, he had forgotten the prefect meeting and had nearly been caught. Annoyed with his carelessness, Louis darted out of the carriage and looked both ways, and then once more for good measure, before heading toward the passageway where the train cars were coupled. There was, as always, an Anti-Apparition ward around the train, both to keep people out and keep unruly older students in, but this ward stopped once the first foot or so surrounding the train was cleared. He knew he would only get one shot at this, and failure was not advisable.
Pointing his wand at the less-stout retractable passageway, he cried, –Reducto!â€
The passageway snapped back, exposing the train car couplings below, as well as the track beneath, flying by impossibly fast. Ignoring the distaste that simmered in his belly, Louis set down his shrunken trunk at the edge of the train car walkway. Taking a deep breath, he slowly lowered himself down to where he was standing on the coupling, cursing its narrowness and lack of flat spaces on which to stand.
Louis grabbed his trunk as he precariously maintained his balance. He was almost there. Just one last step, one leap of faith, and it was dangerous. As he considered the rapidly moving tracks, he felt a moment of hesitation, but instead of climbing back to safety, he squeezed his eyes shut and forced himself to think about pink apples, about stolen kisses, about biscuits and shooting stars.
And, with that, he jumped with all of his might.
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