Once More Unto The Breach // DHr

f i v e

"We'll go over it again. Once we've disarmed the wards, we strike here," Charlie Weasley crosses the mass of lawn before Parkinson Manor, "here," its back gates, "and here." to the front door. "This is the time for each sentry round that covers the entire perimeter of the estate. Commit each swap, when and who, to memory, then we match up our watches. Any questions?"

Silence greets him in the tiny tent they creatively called HQ, all looking with rapt attention towards the board that held their game plan for tomorrow night's ambush. Somewhere along the line, Charlie had been appointed their main strategist. She doesn't recall him ever volunteering and realises that he must have been thrusted upon the responsibility of deciding who gets to die by the unluckiest series of circumstances.

Ron is here because of Hermione, that much is evident, but there really wasn't anything tying down Charlie to them. The rest of the Weasley clan were in North America setting up shelters for those too weak and injured to fight here. But he's stayed so far.

"Expect it to be bloody. He may be there, he may not, but we take down each and every one of them or we die trying. There's no point in capturing for hostages unless they're inner circle. Cast to kill." Neville Longbottom. Long gone is the awkward boy with clumsy limbs. Standing in the middle of the room now in his place is a man with a scar that runs across his neck, hardened by the sheer weight of being The Other One Who Had Been Chosen, the burden of being Harry's replacement.

Cho Chang enters the tent having just got back from an overnight patrol with Luna Lovegood in tow. Both of them bleary-eyed and worn to the bone. Hermione fucking hated patrols.

"Cadwallader," He looks up from writing on some spare parchment, a scowl forming on his face for he already knows what's to come in his immediate future. They all fucking hated patrols. "Dunbar, to the west and spread out. Four hours. Brocklehurst and Madley will cover for you from supper onwards since they're not to train tonight." Hermione's voice cuts through the space, the instructions coming out harsher than she intended but no one seemed to mind, they were used to it, except for the Mulligan sisters, two of their newest recruits – orphaned Muggle-born siblings who are way too young to be thrown headfirst into combat.

The old Hermione would have been easier on them, understood them, held their hands and told them everything would be okay because they had hope, but the old Hermione is long gone too.

Fay Dunbar was in Gryffindor with her, whilst Philip Cadwallader was sorted into Hufflepuff. Houses don't matter anymore but everyone still clings to the familiarity of it, reminding them of times that weren't tainted by death and destruction. Fay nods to her then leaves.

"Watch out for the bouncing bulbs near the river, Buggins." Luna singsongs after Philip, who started walking towards where Fay was after clearing his things, his face significantly souring even more than original as laughter erupted in the room. She doesn't remember how Luna came about the awful nickname, only knowing it went way back to their Hogwarts days, or how the girl could even forget such an average name like Philip, but it had stuck, and everyone was still laughing as they filed out after she's dismissed the meeting.

For a moment, it was like she was back in the Great Hall again, but the moment went as quickly as it came, because now she's alone, left to wipe the board clean and burn every parchment they touched.