HEATHENS - Harry Potter ✔

CHAPTER TWO

The Burrow had been made the new Headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix as Grimmauld Place was not safe with Snape permanently on the dark side and the Secret-Keeper, Dumbledore, dead. Half of them were still expecting to see Mad-Eye stump over the threshold, his electric blue glass eye whirring frantically around; though, of course, they never did.

Harry was growing more anxious to start his action day by day. He was constantly unpacking his things to make sure he had everything he needed, then repacking them. He was constantly fidgeting as if he was burning to leave and begin his hunt.

"Well, you can't do anything about the," Ron mouthed the word Horcruxes, "till you're seventeen. You've still got the Trace on you. And we can plan here as well as anywhere, can't we? Or," he continued in a whispered, "d'you reckon you already know the You-Know-Whats are?"

"No," admitted Harry.

"I think Hermione's been doing a bit of research," said the ginger. "She said she was saving it for when you got here." They were engulfed into a silence, until Ron looked back up at him and said uneasily, "Harry ... I've – we've been talking, and..." he cast another anxious look at him and shifted uncomfortably in his chair. "You need to be prepared to do more, Disarming won't be enough when we're fighting Death Eaters-"

"Lupin already told me how stupid it was," Harry interrupted. "But I wasn't about to kill Stan Shunpike. Apparently, Expelliarmus is my 'signature move'" Ron looked back down at the laundry he was 'folding', and Harry spoke again. "The Trace will break on the thirty-first. That means I only need to stay here four days. Then I can -"

"Five days," Ron corrected him. "We've got to stay for the wedding. They'll kill us if we miss it." Harry knew 'they' meant Fleur and Mrs Weasley. "It's one extra day."

"Don't they realise how important -?"

"'Course they don't," said Ron, rather irritant. "They haven't got a clue. And now you mention it, I wanted to talk to you about that." He glanced around to make sure they were still alone; Bill and Mr Weasley had gone to work, Mrs Weasley was doing laundry, Fleur had left to take a bath, and the others were still sleeping. "Mum's been trying to get it out of Hermione, Kiera, and me. What we're off to do. She'll try you next, so brace yourself. Dad and Lupin have both asked as well, but when we said Dumbledore told you not to tell anyone, they dropped it. Not Mum, though. She's determined."

*

The next two days consisted of nonstop cutlery polishing; colour-matching flavours, ribbons, and flowers; de-gnoming the garden; and cooking vast amounts od canapés. Mrs Weasley seemed to give jobs to Harry, Kiera, Ron, and Hermione that were as far from each other as possible as if to keep them apart. The four had not had a chance to talk in private since the night they had arrived at the Burrow, and Harry had told Hermione and Ron about Ollivander.

"I think she thinks that if we can't plan, we might delay our leave and stay here longer," Kiera told Harry when the two were setting the table on the third night of Harry's stay. Ron and Hermione were both somewhere else, being kept busy by Mrs Weasley.

"What does she think?" said Harry, both amused and annoyed. "That if we stay here, someone else will kill Voldemort?"

Kiera shuddered slightly and the brutal bluntness of his words. She merely shrugged her shoulders, as she walked back to the kitchen drawer to retrieve more utensils. When she walked back over to Harry and handed him a bunch of knives, their hands brushing together at the act.

At that moment they both realised that it was the first time they were alone together since those stolen hours at Hogwarts, when they were still a couple. They stared at each other for what must have been hours, neither moving. When the kitchen door burst open, Kingsley and Mr Weasley entering, they both jumped and quickly moved away from each other. Clearing her throat, Kiera continued setting the table.