Aria Black and the Battle for Hogwarts

The Seven Potters and the Fake Death Eater

The darkness outside 4 Privet Drive seems to be rippling.

We (Ron, Hermione, Fred, George, Remus, Tonks, Mr. Weasley, Bill, Fleur, Moody, Hagrid, Mungungus, Kingsley and me) all stand outside Harry's house. It's a good thing it's night, because if the Muggles see us, they'll call the 'police'.

Harry throws open the door and Ron and Hermione hug him. I smile at him.

Hagrid says, "All righ', Harry? Ready fer the off?"

"Definitely." Harry says, beaming. "But I wasn't expecting this many of you!"

"Change of plan." Mad-Eye growls. He holds two enormous bulging sacks, magical eye spinning from darkening sky to house to garden with dizzying rapidity. "Let's get undercover before we talk you through it."

He leads us to the kitchen, where some people take their seats in the pristine white dining chairs. I perch myself on the countertops.

"Kingsley, I thought you were looking after the Muggle Prime Minister?" Harry calls across the room.

"He can get along without me for one night." says Kingsley. "You're more important."

"Harry, guess what?" Tonks asks from her area on top of the washing machine, and she wiggles her left hand at him, where her ring glistens.

"You got married?" Harry yelps, looking from her to Remus.

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

"That's brilliant, congrats-"

"All right, all right, we'll have time for a cozy catch-up later." Moody roars. Silence falls over the kitchen. Moody drops his sacks at his feet and turns 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."

"What?"

"The Trace is 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." I say, offering him a smile.

"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." Mad-Eye says, clearly annoyed at getting interrupted.

"So what are we going to do?"

"We're going to use the only means of transport left to us, the only ones the Trace can't detect, because we don't need to cast spells to use them: brooms, thestrals, and Hagrid's motorbike." I say, just to annoy Moody.

"Now, your mother's charm will only break under two conditions: when you come of age, or..." Moody gestures around the kitchen. "you no longer call this place home. You and your aunt and uncle are going your separate ways tonight, in the full understanding that you're never going to live together again, correct?"

Harry nods.

"So this time, when you leave, there'll be no going back, and the charm will break the moment you get outside its range. We're choosing to break it early, because the alternative is waiting for You-Know-Who to come and seize you the moment you turn seventeen."