Cast Aside

Hard Sleeps and House Hunting

Chapter 22

Stepping back through the floo, they were all experiencing varying degrees of anger and apprehension. His father had gone straight upstairs to the room he shared with his Mum after ascertaining that Dumbledore hadn't shared the prophecy. The rest of them trudged down the hall to the kitchen to discuss the meeting over some Ogden's.

Fabian took a slow, savoring pull from his glass and looked across the table at George. "What did he say? None of us could hear him but he looked angry. Moody was damn put out too."

Before he could answer, Hermione scoffed irritably. "I'm surprised he's not better used to the way Dumbledore operates. That man hoards information like a Dragon does gold." The ice in her glass clinked as she swirled it around in her hand. "Haven't they been friends for years?"

Gideon's smirk was weak as he stared down into his own drink. "Sure they have. But after the vile stunt he'd just admitted to, Moody wanted to hear everything. It's exactly because he has so much loyalty to the man that he needed to hear it. I'm sure he'll try to wheedle it out of him before allowing himself to be pacified."

Dragging a frustrated hand through his hair, George sighed. Gideon was right. Dumbledore just had too much influence, especially with the older generation. This prophecy had made them important to him and unfortunately he didn't seem ready to back down. "He didn't really tell us anything either. He dropped what sounded like a single line about two people knowing how to defeat the Dark Lord and then some gloomy tidbits… to be honest he's probably right. Considering what we know and what we're planning, it probably is about us. Not that it means we're going to work with him."

Hermione's hand was warm on his thigh as she leaned against his shoulder. The exhaustion that had been lingering since he'd gotten out of bed that morning suddenly seemed to settle around him all at once. Knowing Dumbledore wasn't likely to stop meddling made everything they still had to face feel that much more impossible. It was going to be hard enough dodging Voldemort and the Death Eaters without having to worry about Dumbledore tailing them too.

"Maybe we really should send your family to France, George. I don't want to always be worrying about them too and we have more than enough galleons to set them up somewhere."

George kissed the top of her head and rested his cheek there as he thought over her suggestion. "Well… they survived last time. There's no reason to believe they won't this time."

Across the table, Fabian poured himself another drink and shook his head. "You two weren't here the last time. Nevermind Dumbledore's meddling, who knows what else you've changed. Our little hat project has put a target on all our backs. I think Hermione's right."

Gideon sighed and blinked up at the ceiling. "Damn, I'm going to miss those little buggers. Won't want to risk visiting often if we have people watching us, though."

"Well…" George finished his drink and stood, pulling Hermione up with him. "All that's true, but it's not really up to us. Talk to them tomorrow, I have a feeling I won't be bothering to get up. If they want that extended holiday, we can pop over and spend the rest of the week looking for something."

Both of his uncles nodded as they left and headed for the stairs, Hermione's hand still tightly laced in his. By the time they reached their room he was nearly too exhausted to take off his robes, the offending garment landing in a heap on the floor. Toeing off his dragon hide boots as he sat on the edge of the bed, George hoped his parents would take their offer. He knew how proud his family was when it came to charity and hoped that since it was coming from him they wouldn't see it that way.

Hermione's hands snaked around his waist and began undoing the buttons of his shirt, her cheek pressed against his neck. Blinking, he realized he had stopped moving as he'd stared at the wall in thought, his own hands frozen around his belt buckle.