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11. Dreaming by Smallpools | A Visit from the Minister.

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ELLE

By the time I landed on the porch of the Burrow, I was back to my original shape, long hair, mole, and all. Beside me Josiah offered a confident smile. We'd made it out of the battle fine. I glanced down at my hands where I'd been burned by a stray hex, but even then I'd managed to make it out just fine. Josiah brushed past me and went inside the Burrow in search for Roxanne and Lysander, I assumed.

Hermione came outside at the sound of more people arriving on the scene, her eyes softened at the sight of me. And, for a moment, I could read her mind. She had been afraid that I wouldn't have made it, and it would have been just her. Alone.

Beside me, a Harry impostor landed on a broomstick, but I was just grinning at Hermione. A sigh of relief blew from her mouth as she raced forward, arms outstretched as if to wrap me in a hug.

I opened my arms, "Hermione, I'm fine..."

Hermione passed me by and practically tackled the sprouting Harry next me as he grew taller and fuller, hair turning red to reveal Ronald Weasley. Ron blushed at the hug, but he managed to hug my sister back tightly.

"Oh, so that's how it is, huh?" I sniffled, turning my nose to the air, "Where's Fred?" Two can play at that game, 'Mione, I thought to myself, but the somber eye that she gave me, once she pulled away from Ron, chilled me to the bones.

A lump formed in my throat, "H-Hermione, where's Fred?"

"He hasn't gotten back yet," she ducked her head, glancing up at Ron from under her eyelashes, "But George has been injured."

"Injured?" I prodded, worry gripping me tightly. "How bad is it?"

"Molly thinks he will be fine and Tonks is seeing to his wound, but...it's a permanent scar."

Ron nodded at Hermione's words, "I should go see him, then." Hermione followed Ron back into the Burrow, turning to watch me as I waited out in the brisk night air, "Elle?"

"You guys go ahead. I'll wait for Fred and tell him about George when he gets here, okay?" I could practically picture the horrified expression that would undoubtedly plaster over his features. And I wouldn't blame him. If something like this had happened to Hermione instead of George, I would be crazy, out of my mind with worry.

It was only about three or so minutes in the cold before Arthur and Fred landed in the lawn, Fred's face was littered with a few bruises and cuts, but overall he was fine. Arthur immediately rushed inside to his wife and children, and I flung myself into Fred's tired arms, feeling the anxiety that had been building up in my chest go away. Fred was fine. He was in one piece.

"Don't fucking scare me like that! What took you so long?" I pulled myself away from the tightness of our embrace, glaring up at my boyfriend as I pushed him slightly.

Fred lowered his eyes, but didn't respond to my question, instead he pulled me back into a tight hug, burying his head against my shoulder. "I'm happy you are alright, Elle."

"Fred," the way he was acting caused a knot to build in my stomach, "Fred, what happened? What's wrong?"

"Moody...Moody's dead, Elle."

For a small moment, the words couldn't process in my mind. It was like a practical joke. Moody couldn't be dead. He was the Alastor Moody, for Godric's sake! But the way Fred stared solemnly into my eyes told me all I needed to know. It was true. "Fred, there's something else..."

"Other than Moody?"

My bottom lip trembled as I nodded slowly, arms still around Fred's torso from our extended hug. In those small moments, Fred could practically read my face like an open book.

"Where is he?"

"He's in the house," I told him, linking my hand with his as he quickly raced to the Burrow's living room, pulling me along as I attempted to keep up with his long, erratic strides.

Stepping into the threshold of the Burrow, I felt shivers run up my spine. I hadn't realized how cold I had been outside. I latched onto Fred's hand and rounded the corner with him, turning into the family room to find practically everyone sitting around George's crumpled figure on the couch. He seemed to be in bad shape, and there was a gaping, bloody hole where his left ear used to me.

"Georgie," Fred breathed out, face crumpled with worry as he kneeled beside the couch, George's shallow breathing the only sound that I could pick up on, everyone else was trying to remain silent and vacant in the twin's moment.

I slunk into the background, wanting to give the two brothers their privacy. Walking into the practically vacant kitchen, I smiled at Lana as she peeled a banana, sitting on the counter top, face somber.

"Lana," I sighed, feeling the weight of the night's events resting on my shoulders, "Everything's going to shit, and nothing has even happened yet."

She merely nodded, knowing that there was nothing she could say to make me feel the slightest bit better.

"Where's Jenna?"

Lana tossed the peel of her banana into the bin and glanced up at me before taking a bite, "I think she followed that Joseph guy upstairs."

"Josiah," I corrected her with a roll of my eyes, "And, really, a new crush? What's wrong with the two other guys she's been following around?"

"They're not him," she snickered, taking a calculative bite of her fruit, "Besides, I think that guy is alright, kinda sweet. She could do well liking someone like that for a while."

"I guess you're right." I hopped onto the counter beside her, pulling my knees up to my chin so I could feel warmth. A dark coldness was quickly settling into the pit of my chest. The world was crumbling around all of us faster than I had thought it would.

We stayed in the kitchen for a small time, but the sound of a heated argument could be heard from outside, and I knew things were going south. Max and Lysander must have arrived by now. "They are never going to work out their differences," I sighed, listening as Roxanne and Max had a yelling match.

"I don't care if it was a bitchy move, Roxanne! The point is, my private life is none of your business! Why do you care what I do, anyway? Is your life getting boring so now you're trying to ruin everyone else's lives? Who's the bitch now?" Max's voice echoed through the kitchen, and I wondered if I should go out there and knock some sense into both of them, but Sam's voice flickered out quickly.

"Shut up, you two! What the hell is wrong with you two?! It's only been a couple of minutes and you two are already at each other's throats!"

Next to me, Lana chuckled. "I think Max and Roxanne are back. Catfight, much?"

"Let's not get ahead of ourselves," I shushed her, feeling a weak grin flint at the corner of my lips.

Roxanne blurted more angry words out, but I couldn't pick up on what they had been. Not that it mattered. In a matter of minutes a door upstairs was slammed shut and Harry was yelling at Max to open the door.

"Moody's dead," Lana breathed out once she finished her fruit, mimicking me by pulling her knees up under her chin, "I haven't known him for too long, but he was pretty badass. We could have used him."

I didn't respond. All I could think about was the horrors that were undoubtedly going to happen this year. Staring at a crack in the wall of the kitchen, I admitted the truth to Lana. "I'm not going back to Hogwarts."

"I know."

I swallowed a watery lump in my throat as I turned to stare her in the eyes, "Please don't go back there. Take Jenna and go to France, bloody hell, go back to America for all I care."

Lana glanced up at me in surprised, allowing a wicked smirk to overtake her lips. "You don't think we can handle ourselves?"

"Just, please?"

"You know that we can't. Plus, if we disappear, they will follow us if they think we know where Harry and Max are. It doesn't matter anymore. I'm not going to put my family in danger like that, Elle."

I sniffled, rubbing my nose, "This is all my fault."

"No," Lana rolled her eyes, hitting the side of my head, "It's not. So don't say that." I opened my mouth for some retort, but she let out a small yawn, "I'm getting tired; it's pretty late. I'm off to bed, and you should, too."

"Okay, Mum," I rolled my eyes at her, "I guess you're right. We've got a lot more things to do in the morning."

Walking past the family room, I spared Fred and George a curt 'good night,' over hearing them making jovial comments about holes. Head down, I tromped up the stairs, feeling emotionally and physically drained. But, when I entered the room that Hermione, Ginny, Jenna, Lana, Max, Rox, and I were all sharing, I realized that only half of the guests were inside.

Hermione offered me a half-hearted smile, while Jenna was talking up Lana, blushing and rambling about boys and the decorations for the wedding. At least someone was having fun being Fleur's slave for the time being.

"Where's the troublemakers?" I quipped, flopping down on my makeshift bed, Hermione tucking a bookmark into her novel as she huffed out a breath of annoyance.

"Honestly, the two of them are acting rather childish..." Hermione complained to me, to which I merely nodded. "Do you think you could talk to Roxanne, though, Elle?" My sister frowned, a crumple in between her brow, "I think that she really did hurt Max's feelings."

"I'm tired," I whined. A pillow smacked me upside the head, accompanied by a snickering Jenna. I shot Hermione a glare, picking her pillow up from my crossed legs, "Why can't you talk to 'em? I'm not good with this."

"Don't whine so much," Jenna sung, pulling her hair into a bun.

Hermione nodded, tucking her book away into her tiny, beaded purse. "Besides, you should do it. They all related to Harry and Ron, so since you are related to me, they need to be friends, too," her voice was in a leading tone, telling me that she was hinting towards something else with her words. Something along the lines of, 'You better do this, because you all are splitting up together.'

Jenna nodded, thinking over what Hermione had said, "Yeah, someone has to be the glue to the s'more."

"I think you mean marshmallow," Lana whispered in the background, but Jenna ignored her.

Groaning, I picked my body off the floor. "Yeah, yeah...stop talking logic."

I stepped lightly back down stairs, trying to remain quiet as to not wake anyone up. Fred and George were still where I'd last seen them, but outside the window I could see two figures talking out in the field. Straining my eyes against the moonlit room, I figured that it may have been Ron and Harry.

So far, I hadn't even laid eyes on Roxanne since before I'd left for the Potters. "Fred," I called towards him, feeling my chest flutter at the grin he offered me, "Have you seen your sister?"

"The redhead or the redhead?"

"Hardy-har-har," I responded, crossing arms over my chest, "No, the redhead."

"Oh, she's in the kitchen."

Shaking my head at my stupid boyfriend, I edged my way towards the closed kitchen door before slowly pulling it open. I peered inside to see Rox rummaging through the bowl of fruit on the countertop, muttering curses under her breath.

"Hey, Rox," I awkwardly stepped into the dark kitchen, pulling open the curtain over the window to let some silver light filter into the room. "Can we talk?"

"Yeah, yeah," she waved me off, preoccupied as she tossed fruit about, frown on her lips, "I know what you are going to say, so you probably shouldn't bother."

"You're probably right," I shrugged, walking to the cabinet and grabbing the jar of peanut butter from the shelf and a spoon from the drawer. It was funny how well I knew this kitchen. I'd spent too many summers here for my own good. "But, Hermione sent me here on a mission. And, you and I both know what it's like dealing with twins."

I held out the jar to her after popping the top off of it and spooning out a serving for myself. Rox glanced down at the jar in surprise, a fireside apple in her fist.

"Uh, thanks, Elle," she offered me a red apple, but I shook it off, grabbing a green one that she'd discarded in her search for a specific kind. "How'd you know?"

"Peanut butter is everybody's go to snack." I shrugged, taking a bite from the granny smith while hopping up onto the counter, as I had done earlier. "So, what happened earlier?"

Rox sighed and I watched as her shoulders sagged in a tired way. Reaching behind her, she grabbed a knife and began slicing up her apple, keeping her eyes glued to her work. "I meant what I'd said, so if you are looking for an apology..."

"Nah, I don't want one."

Rox paused her cutting and glanced up at me, confused, "Then, what do you want?"

"To talk," I took another bite from my apple, watching her methodical work, "Max seemed pretty angry about what you'd said. I didn't hear it, though."

"I," Rox sighed, setting her blade to the side and putting her apple slices into a bowl, "I may have said some things that weren't the...nicest in the situation, but it's nothing more than what she deserved."

"What she deserved?" An arched brow rose it's way up my forehead, but I let her keep explaining, prodding only when needed.

"Moody's dead because of her, Dumbledore's dead because of her, and," she bit out bitterly, "And, George is hurt because of her."

I let silence swallow us up for a minute, not really knowing what to say. There was a reason I didn't want to be the one to talk to Rox and Max. I wasn't the 'let's hug it all out' person. I wasn't good with conflict.

Frowning, I considered what Hermione would have asked me if I had been in Rox's shoes. "Well," I paused only for a moment, "Did Max kill Dumbledore?"

Rox furrowed her brow, glancing up at me with uncertainty, "No?"

"Did she murder Moody?"

"No, but--"

I cut her off, "Did she hit George with a curse?"

Roxanne huffed out a muttered response under her breath, one that I didn't pick up on. "No, but that's not the point."

"Look, I get what you are trying to say. I do," I reassured her, forcing a light smile on my lips. "But blaming Max for the things that Death Eaters did is not the right way to take the situation."

Roxanne took an apple slice and spooned a heap of peanut butter onto it, glaring at the piece before shrugging with a downward turn to her lips, "Well, it's worked for the last year or so..."

A curt giggle came from the back of my throat, probably catching her off guard. "I'm sorry," I waved my free hand in the air, "It's just that, well, the way you said that. It reminded me of Ron."

"Shut up!" she jokingly whined, "That's a lie."

"Mhm, sure."

The rest of our conversation was light and meaningless, and, after I had left Rox in the kitchen to head back upstairs, I realized that I probably hadn't even done what Hermione had sent me out to do. Rox wasn't going to apologize for whatever she'd said. But, hopefully some part of her was more willing to be less harsh on Max.

The front door opened as Ron and Harry made their way back into the Burrow. I watched the two of them round the corner to head back to their shared room before calling out to Harry. "Uh, Potter...wait a sec, kay?"

Harry turned on his heel, offering me a nod. He could tell by the way I'd called him by his last name that I was about to say something serious. "Yeah, Elle. What's up?"

Intertwining my fingers, I balanced back and forth on my heels, "Um, how's your sister? She seemed a bit shaken up about what Rox had said."

"Well," Harry frowned, adjusting his glasses on the bridge of his nose, "She's refusing to see me, if that answers your question."

I felt my heart sink, "Was it that bad?"

"You remember that time when Ron and I were at each other's throats in fourth year?" Harry asked, crossing his arms over his chest.

"That bad?" I asked, feeling a bit better. They'd managed to work it out. Perhaps their siblings could, too.

Harry shook his head, "Worse."

Great, way to crush my hopes, Harry, I thought to myself with a stifled sigh.

I chewed my bottom lip for a moment, thinking hard about Max. She had to be going through a lot with witnessing what the man she was in love with did and the crap everyone was giving her.

"You think I should try talking to her?"

Harry shook his head, "No, she probably wants to be alone right now. But, you could try to wait it out and see. That's what I'm doing since Max isn't giving me a choice, really."

"Whatever you say, I guess..." I trailed off, tucking my hands into my pockets, "Thanks. Good night, Harry," I added, slipping a half-hearted smile onto my face, walking around him to head up the stairs. As I passed the lavatory on my way to the bedroom, I paused, cursing under my breath as the faint sound of sniffling echoed from inside.

Standing in the midst of the hallway, I slowly reached out a hand and retracted it, then eventually gave a light knock on the door.

"Go away, Harry," Max called out quietly.

I leaned against the door, cringing a bit. I was afraid of saying the wrong thing and sending her into a foul mood worse than the one she was in. "Hey, it's me, Elle," I kept my voice soft and quiet.

Max didn't respond at first, making me think she hadn't heard me.

"Er, I-I am just here to tell you that...if you wanna talk, you can come to me. I'm not the best listener...but, yeah."

Still no response.

Sighing, I stepped away from the door. "Goodnight, Max." Stuffing my cold hands back into my pockets, I continued on my way to the room. It was faint and almost above a whisper, but I heard Max's voice as I walked.

"Goodnight, Elle."

The next few days were really the 'crunch' time of getting every last detail perfect for the wedding. It already was July 31st; Fleur was a nervous wreck. Bill was managing to keep her together, though, for the sake of everyone - Roxanne and Ginny especially.

"Okay, yes, yes," Hermione responded to Fleur's instructions about the flowers. Fleur had already told the four of us, Hermione, Jenna, Lana, and I, about their placement three times by now. Bill caught the signal of distress we were sending his way and he cleared his throat, lightly placing a hand on his fiancee's shoulder.

"Fleur, come. You were talking about the decor in the main tent, right?" He distracted her, leading her towards the large area where Fred, Lysander, George, and Josiah were pitching the large tent. Fred met my gaze with a wink and I rolled my eyes, sticking my tongue out towards him.

I watched as Max made her way out into the semi-warm morning air, and I grinned, "Yo! Happy Birthday! How does it feel to be an adult?"

"I'm seventeen."

I nodded, "Yup, that's the age of adulthood in the Wizarding world. You are now traceless."

"Great," she sighed, sounding tired and a bit annoyed. I couldn't blame her. "I guess it's one last thing we have to worry about."

"Yes," Hermione nodded, placing an extravagant vase into Max's arms, it was filled to the brim with white flowers, "Now, you have to worry about placing these into the perfect position."

"Or face the wrath of my cousin," Lana added, juggling two center pieces while Jenna hummed a light tune to herself, holding nothing. I shot Jenna a glare, but she ignored it, bouncing around as if she was having the time of her life. She had a thing for weddings.

Grabbing the last of the pearl colored vases, I followed the procession of my friends, ducking under the flap of the tent so we could place everything on their required tables. Jenna skipped from table to table, adjusting everything and making sure it was straight.

"She's really enjoying herself, huh?" Max murmured to me as we watched her.

"Yeah," I nodded, chuckling a bit. "Jenna loves the idea of love."

There was a tap on our shoulders and we turned to see a frowning Roxanne. "My mum told me to get you guys."

"Why?" Max bristled, crossing her arms over her chest.

I quickly intervened, "What's up?"

"Apparently," Rox shot Max a sharp eye of annoyance, "the Minister of Magic is here. And, he wants to meet with us."

"Us?" I frowned, confused. "Why us? Why not Harry, or--"

"Well, him, too. He wants to see all of us."

Max and I shared the same look of anxiety. I'd never met the Minister before, neither had I met the one before him - the one they'd replaced do to recent discoveries about You-Know-Who. I had the feeling one would get when they got sent to the headmaster's office for doing something bad. Except, this feeling was a thousand times worse.

Nodding, we followed Roxanne to the Burrow living room. I noted quickly that he was already meeting with our siblings on the couch, so I quickly claimed my space beside Hermione. It was a small couch, so I sat on the armrest, pushing Hermione's arm off. Rox leaned behind Ron's spot, and Max took the armrest beside Harry.

"Good, you are all here," the man cleared his throat, straightening himself out before us. "I am Rufus Scrimgeour, the Minister of Magic. I have come in behalf of the last will and testament of Albus Dumbledore."

Frowning, I turned to my sister. She, in turn, glanced at me with the same confusion. In that moment, I knew we were thinking the same question. Why is the Minister himself dealing with Dumbledore's will?

The Minister pulled a document from his coat and cleared his throat once more, "The last will and testament of Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore." I twitched around in my spot, feeling an uncomfortable air around us at the will. It only furthered the fact that Dumbledore really was gone. Something that I had repeatedly tried to push to the back of my mind.

"First, to Ronald Bilius Weasley, I leave my Deluminator. A device of my own making in the hope that when things seem most dark, it may light your path." With that, he pulled a small object that I found looked like a lighter from his satchel and handed it to Ron, who seemed a bit apprehensive about the gift.

"Dumbledore left this for me?" he murmured, surprised. "Brilliant..." he glanced towards Hermione and I, "What is it?" None of us had an answer for his question. Ron clicked the lever on the top, and suddenly the light from the lamp in the dining room flickered out, appearing in the device. "Wicked."

The Minister chose to ignore that and kept reading, "To Roxanne Loraine Weasley, I leave Magical Plants And Where To Find Them, Volume III in hopes that she will remember the quality of learning and the basic knowledge that every good wizard should know, especially in times needed most."

Then, he dug through his bag and handed Roxanne the book. It was an older edition, I realized. The writer had already come out with six new volumes, well more advanced, but I didn't say anything about it.

Rox frowned, "But...I hate Herbology." Under her breath, I heard her compare Ron's cool gadget with her book in annoyance.

"To Hermione Jean Granger, I leave my copy of The Tales of Beedle and Bard in the hope that she find it entertaining and instructive." He handed her an extremely worn book, and the two of us looked down on it in confusion, I'd never heard of it before.

"Mum used to read us those," Ron grinned at the book, nodding towards Rox who agreed silently, "The Wizard and the Hopping Pot, Babbity Rabbity and the Cackling Stump," Hermione, Max, Harry, and I all watched Ron in confusion. "Oh, come on. Babbity Rabbity...No?"

I shot him down quickly. "No."

The Minister merely watched us with a dead face, bored. "To Elizabeth Rose Granger, I leave my copy of The Ancestry of Hogwarts Founders that she will find it intriguing and guide her when she forgets the importance of a name." The golden covered book that the Minister slid towards me took me off guard.

It sounded odd to me that Dumbledore thought I cared about social status in the Wizarding World. And, it seemed odd for him to care, too, but nonetheless I accepted the book with a small smile. It was a thick book, much larger than I'd thought it would be, and as I flipped open the front cover, I found a recipe scrawled onto the front page.

"Mushroom and Caviar Soup? That sounds terrible," I crinkled my nose in distaste, closing the book once more as the visitor began to talk again.

"To Harry James Potter, I leave the Snitch he caught in his first match at Hogwarts as a reminder of the rewards of perseverance and skill," he nodded, pulling out a silk wrapped ball and handing it to Harry. Hermione was on the edge of the her seat, with what seemed like worry, as he took the Snitch into his hands, but when nothing strange happened, she pulled away. With a nostalgic grin, Harry looked over the Snitch, turning it over in his hands.

"To Maxine Lillian Potter, I leave my Ravenclaw charm," the Minister continued, pulling another silk wrappings from his satchel and presenting it to Max. The charm was beautiful, and she gingerly took it into her hands in a state of admiration. "To remind her of the power of intelligence and the useful nature of grace when times seem dire."

Harry nodded at Minister Scrimgeour, "Is that it then?"

"Not quite," he straightened himself out peering down at the six of us, "Dumbledore left both you and your sister a second request, the sword of Godric Gryffindor. Unfortunately, the sword of Godric Gryffindor was not Dumbledore's to give away. As an important historical artifact it belongs t--"

"--to Harry and Max," Hermione interrupted him, the beginning of a scowl on her face, "It belongs to Harry and Max. It came to them when they most needed it in the Chamber of Secrets," she explained.

"The sword may present itself to any worthy Gryffindor, Miss Granger, that does not make it that wizard's property." Hermione chewed on the inside of her cheek, not liking the response he'd given her. "And, in any case, the location of the sword is unknown."

"'Scuse me?" Roxanne blurted out.

The Minister nodded, "The sword is missing. I don't know what you're up to, Mr. and Miss Potter, but you two can't fight this war on your own. He's too strong."

I straightened myself out on the armrest and gave the man a sharp eye. "They're not alone."