Phoenix

Next Step

"We need to wipe their memories," said Harry. "it'll throw them off the scent."

"If we killed them it'd be obvious we were here," I added.

"You're the boss," said Ron, sounding profoundly relieved. "But I've never done a Memory Charm."

"Nor have I," said Hermione, "but I know the theory."

She took a deep, calming breath, then pointed her wand at Dolohov's forehead and said, "Obliviate."
At once, Dolohov's eyes became unfocused and dreamy.

"Brilliant!" said Harry, clapping her on the back. "Take care of the other one and the waitress while Ron and I clear up."

"Clear up?" said Ron, looking around at the partly destroyed café. "Why?"

"Don't you think they might wonder what's happened if they wake up and find themselves in a place that looks like it's just been bombed?"

"Oh right, yeah . . ."

"I'll help." I stood up and ignored the pain in my head.

"No!" exclaimed Hermione. "You need to rest after what just happened. Sit down."

I knew she was right and did as told. It wouldn't help anyone if I passed out.

Ron struggled for a moment before managing to extract his wand from his pocket.

"It's no wonder I can't get it out, Hermione, you packed my old jeans, they're tight."

"Oh, I'm so sorry," hissed Hermione, and as she dragged the waitress out of sight of the windows, I heard her mutter a suggestion as to where Ron could stick his wand instead.

After everything was restored to the way it was, they sat down in the booth I was sitting in to figure out what to do next.

"We need a safe place to hide," said Ron. "Give us time to think things through."

I thought for a moment. "I know a few underground SHIELD bases in London, but there will be other people there."

"We need a place close to the wizarding communities," said Hermione. "We ought to stay close to our allies."

"Grimmauld Place," said Harry.

The other two gaped.

"Don't be silly, Harry, Snape can get in there!"

"Ron's dad said they've put up jinxes against him — and even if they haven't worked," he pressed on as Hermione began to argue, "so what? I swear, I'd like nothing better than to meet Snape!"

"But —"

"Hermione, where else is there? It's the best chance we've got."

"Besides," I butted in. "Harry's parents had been fighting Voldemort for a long time. There might be some clues at the house."

Hermione could not argue, though she looked as if she would have liked to. While she unlocked the café door, Ron clicked the Deluminator to release the café's light. Then, they reversed the spells upon their three victims, and before the waitress or either of the Death Eaters could do more than stir sleepily, Harry, Ron, Hermione and I grabbed hands and appeared away.

We were now standing in the middle of a familiar small and shabby square. Tall, dilapidated houses looked down on them from every side. We could see Number twelve because we had been told of its existence by Dumbledore, its Secret-Keeper, and we rushed toward it, checking every few yards that we were not being followed or observed. We raced up the stone steps, and Harry tapped the front door once with his wand. There were a series of metallic clicks and the clatter of a chain, then the door swung open with a creak and we hurried over the threshold.