The Weasley of Slytherin: The Deathly Hallows

Chapter 1: Seven Potters

"This is the house Moody, we've been here before." I whispered exasperatedly as we stood outside Harry's house.

"We need to be su—"

"I can see into the house Mad-eye it's only Harry in there. Screw it." I said, lifting my disillusionment charm.

"If you get us killed." Moody said threateningly before the rest of them lifted their disillusionment charms as well.

The back door was wrenched open, as Harry hurtled into our midst. There was a general cry of greeting as Hermione flung her arms around him, Ron and I clapped him on the back, and Hagrid said, "All righ', Harry? Ready fer the off?"

"Definitely," said Harry, beaming around at us all. "But I wasn't expecting this many of you!"

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

Harry led us all back into the kitchen where, laughing and chattering, we settled on chairs, sat ourselves upon gleaming work surfaces, or leaned up against spotless appliances: Ron, long and lanky; Hermione, her bushy hair tied back in a long plait; Fred and George, grinning identically; Bill, badly scarred and long-haired.

Arthur, balding, his spectacles a little awry; Mad-Eye, battle-worn, one-legged, his bright blue magical eye whizzing in its socket; Tonks, whose short hair was her favorite shade of bright pink; Lupin, grayer, more lined; Fleur, slender and beautiful, with her long silvery blonde hair.

Kingsley, bald, black, broad-shouldered; and Hagrid, with his wild hair and beard, standing hunchbacked to avoid hitting his head on the ceiling.

"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.

"Yeah guess who wasn't invited though?" I said rolling my eyes.

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

"That's brilliant, congrat —"

"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 —" Harry started.

"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."