The Weasley of Slytherin: The Deathly Hallows

Chapter 2: Preparations

The shock of losing Mad-Eye hung over the house in the days that followed; I kept expecting to see him stumping in through the back door like the other Order members, who passed in and out to relay news.

"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 dropped his voice to a whisper, "d'you reckon you already know where the You-Know-Whats are?"

"No," Harry admitted.

"Dumbledore didn't give you any leads?" I asked him.

"Nothing definitive." He told me.

"I think Hermione's been doing a bit of research," said Ron. "She said she was saving it for when you got here."

We were sitting at the breakfast table; Arthur and Bill had just left for work. Molly had gone upstairs to wake Hermione and Ginny, while Fleur had drifted off to take a bath.

"The Trace'll break on the thirty-first," said Harry. "That means I only need to stay here four days. Then I can —"

"Five days," Ron corrected him firmly. "We've got to stay for the wedding. They'll kill us if we miss it."

"It's one extra day," I told him, when Harry looked mutinous.

"Don't they realize how important — ?"

" 'Course they don't," said Ron. "They haven't got a clue. And now you mention it, I wanted to talk to you about that."

Ron glanced toward the door into the hall to check that Molly was not returning yet, then leaned in closer to Harry. "Mum's been trying to get it out of Hermione, (Y/n), and me. What we're off to do.

"She'll try you next, so brace yourself. Dad and Lupin've both asked as well, but when we said Dumbledore told you not to tell anyone except us, they dropped it. Not Mum, though. She's determined."

Ron's prediction came true within hours. Shortly before lunch, Molly detached Harry from the others by asking him to help identify a lone man's sock that she thought might have come out of his rucksack.

...

From that moment on, Molly kept Harry, Ron, Hermione, and me so busy with preparations for the wedding that we hardly had any time to think. The kindest explanation of this behavior would have been that Molly wanted to distract us all from thoughts of Mad-Eye and the terrors of their recent journey.

After two days of nonstop cutlery cleaning, of color-matching favors, ribbons, and flowers, of de-gnoming the garden and helping Molly cook vast batches of canapés, however, I started to suspect her of a different motive.

All the jobs she handed out seemed to keep me, Ron, Harry, and Hermione away from one another; I had not had a chance to speak to the three of them alone since the first night, when he had us them about Voldemort torturing Ollivander.

"I'm done." I said finally after Molly asked me, Fred, and George to de-gnome the garden for the third time. "Tell mum I've gone and run away or something, I need a break."

"Be safe (Y/n)." Fred told me.

"Try not to lose another limb." George added.

I walked to edge of the garden, and once I was out of sight of the others, I disapparated.

...

"Ah Mr. Riddle, I was wondering when I would see you again." Faolan said opening the door.

"I needed to get away from them all." I said as he invited me into his house.