Towers - Fred Weasley

84

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THE NEWS OF THE ENGAGEMENT SPREAD INSANELY FAST. The Weasley's had now two engagements as Bill had asked Alyx to marry him about a week before Fred had proposed to Ebony. It was great news in the family, a bit of hope hung by two strings.

Unfortunately, summer wasn't even over when they were asked to get towards Harry's house and join the Order of the Phoenix to help them get Harry to the Burrow. It was an incredibly dangerous task but both Fred, George and Ebony didn't hesitate to say yes.

"Change of plan," growled Mad-Eye, who was holding two enormous, bulging sacks, and whose magical eye was spinning from darkening sky to house to garden with dizzying rapidity. "Let's get undercover before we talk you through it."

Harry led them all back into the kitchen where, laughing and chattering, they settled on chairs, sat themselves upon Aunt Petunia's gleaming work surfaces, or leaned up against her spotless appliances.

"Kingsley, I thought you were looking after the Muggle Prime Minister?" Harry called across the room.

"He can get along without me for one night," said Kingsley. "You're more important."

"Harry, guess what?" said Tonks from her perch on top of the washing machine, and she wiggled her left hand at him; a ring glittered there.

"You got married?" Harry yelped, looking from her to Lupin.

"I'm sorry you couldn't be there, Harry, it was very quiet."

"Yeah, so quiet we weren't allowed to come either." Ebony muttered with a huff but managed to show Harry her engagement ring. 

"What?!" Harry asked and looked between her and Fred.

"How come everyone is getting married?"

"All right, all right, we'll have time for a cozy catch-up later!" roared Moody over the hubbub, and silence fell in the kitchen. Moody dropped his sacks at his feet and turned to Harry. "As Dedalus probably told you, we had to abandon Plan A. Pius Thicknesse has gone over, which gives us a big problem. He's made it an imprisonable offense to connect this house to the Floo Network, place a Portkey here, or Apparate in or out. All done in the name of your protection, to prevent You-Know-Who getting in at you. Absolutely pointless, seeing as your mother's charm does that already. What he's really done is to stop you getting out of here safely. Second problem: You're underage, which means you've still got the Trace on you."

"I don't—"

"The Trace, the Trace!" said Mad-Eye impatiently. "The charm that detects magical activity around under-seventeens, the way the Ministry finds out about underage magic! If you, or anyone around you, casts a spell to get you out of here, Thicknesse is going to know about it, and so will the Death Eaters.

"We can't wait for the Trace to break, because the moment you turn seventeen you'll lose all the protection your mother gave you. In short: Pius Thicknesse thinks he's got you cornered good and proper."

"So what are we going to do?" Harry asked and looked around the room.

"We're going to use the only means of transport left to us, the only ones the Trace can't detect, because we don't need to cast spells to use them: brooms, thestrals, Buckbeak and Hagrid's motorbike."

"Now, your mother's charm will only break under two conditions: when you come of age, or"—Moody gestured around the pristine kitchen—"you no longer call this place home. You and your aunt and uncle are going your separate ways tonight, in the full understanding that you're never going to live together again, correct?"