Ineffable | Harry Potter - George Weasley // COMPLETED

50 | Scars

Year 7 at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

Knocking on the door, Hagrid looked down at me with a smile as he gave me a slight pat on the back. When the door finally swung open, Harry stared back at us, obviously shocked as he had not exactly been expecting us. "Hello Harry!" Hagrid greeted him as Harry gave me, Ron, and Hermione hugs.

"You're looking fit," Hagrid told Harry.

Moody, who was grumpy as usual, pushed his way through the front door. "Yeah, he is absolutely gorgeous...let's say we get him undercover before someone murders him."

Slowly, one by one, the people from our large group flooded into Harry's rather empty living room. We had all come together for one thing and one thing only. To finally end the ongoing battle with Voldemort, no matter how long it took or how hard it was.

This was it. There was no more waiting around and planning. We had to take action.

"Hello Harry." a man who looked like an older version of Fred and George with longer hair introduced himself. "Bill Weasley."

"Pleasure to meet you." Harry shook the older Weasley's hand.

"He was never always this handsome." Fred groaned as he and his brother walked in.

George nodded. "Dead ugly."

"True enough." Bill nodded, gesturing to the large scar across his face. "Owe it all to a werewolf, name of Greyback. Hope to repay the favour one day."

"You're still beautiful to me, William." Fleur, Bill's soon to be wife and recent competitor in the Triwizard Tournament, gave him a kiss.

"Just remember, Fleur, Bill takes his steak on the raw side now," Lupin spoke as he walked in, hugging me as he did so. "You look lovely, dear. Much better without a wound in your side."

Tonks groaned. "My husband, the joker. By the way, wait till you hear the news...Remus and I-"

"All right." Moody interrupted, stepping to the front of the crowd. "We'll have time for a cozy catch-up later. We've got to get the hell out of here. And soon. Potter, you are underage, which means you've still got the Trace on you."

"What's the trace?" Harry asked, holding his wand in his hands.

"If you sneeze, the Ministry will know who wipes your nose," Moody explained. "The point is, we have to use those means of transport the Trace can't detect. Brooms, thestrals and the like. We go in pairs. That way, if anyone's out there waiting for us, and I reckon there will be...they won't know which Harry Potter is the real one."

Harry cocked a brow, not exactly liking the sound of that plan. "The real one?"

"I believe you're familiar with this particular brew." Moody pulled out a flask from his jacket.

Harry shook his head. "No. Absolutely not."

"I told you he'd take it well." I glared at Moody, having told him well beforehand that Harry was not into the whole 'everyone at risk for me' thing.

"No, if you think that I'm gonna let everyone risk their lives for me, I-" Harry started.

"Never done that before, have we?" Ron reminded him subtly of all the times we had nearly died.

Harry continued to shake his head, not liking one single aspect of this plan. "No, no, this is different. I mean, taking that, becoming me. No!"

"Well, none of us really fancy it mate," Fred told him.

"Yeah, imagine if something went wrong and we ended up a scrawny, specky git forever," George added.

Moody nodded. "Everyone here is of age, Potter. They all agreed to take the risk."