For these I weep

streams of tears flow

from my eyes

because of the destruction

of my people.

~ Lamentations

     I'd been sitting on one of the two boulders that were surrounded by a ring of silver birch trees at the Holocaust Memorial Garden in Hyde Park for less than ten minutes when the white-haired Chiara Lobosca materialized next to me with a quiet popping noise.

     "You're here!" She sounded relieved as well as a little surprised to see me.

     "I said I'd help," I gave her a questioning look as she kept shifting her weight and darting her eyes around as if she was going to be ambushed at any time.

     "Right. We need to go, and I need to sneak back inside before they realize I'm gone."

     As I stood, her light blue eyes ran over my disheveled clothes, hair, and presumably bloodshot eyes—I hadn't slept well. I waited for her to speak; instead, she scrunched her face up in concern.

     I was pretty sure I already knew the answer, but I couldn't help but ask, "Chiara, Mione is with him now, isn't she?"

     Her eyes darted away, and when finally looking back, they were full of sorrow, "You don't really—"

     "She is, isn't she!?"

     She flinched at my angry tone before quietly answering, "She left St. Mungos about an hour after you did."

     NO!

     My chest felt like Nagini was wrapped around it—squeezing—the air wheezed out of me. Within moments, my vision dimmed, and my mind suddenly felt fuzzy—like I was sick with a head cold. I braced my hands on the smooth stone I'd just stood up from so I wouldn't fall over and did my best to keep from blacking out.

     Chiara waited a few seconds before setting her hand on my shoulder, "Sorry, Ron. I think she's an idiot for doing this to you."

     I wanted to yell, kill something—Severus Snape—and cry all at the same time. Instead, I ran my fingers through my blood-orange hair to get it out of my eyes and buy a moment to collect myself. "We did this to each other."

     "How is this your fault?" Her blue eyes were kind and non-judgemental.

     Shrugging in an attempt to remove the discomfort I was feeling, "After your visit, I recalled numerous conversations Hermione tried to have with me about how I was doing and feeling—especially during the first few months as a couple. Looking back, I can see that she was trying to get me to not only talk about my feelings, but her's as well. I wasn't there for her like I should have been... not once."

     Chiara had a kind look in her eye's, "We all make mistakes."

     I nodded, "This is the only way I can try to fix things and show her how much I love her."

     She scrunched her face in doubt, "She stayed the night with him. I'm fairly certain that they weren't knitting socs as they gossiped over tea and crumpets."

      "I know that, but maybe it was a one-time...." I sagged while sighing heavily—realizing how pitiful I sounded.

     The white-haired girl tried to cheer me with her smile and kind words, "You two have been friends for a long time. Throwing that away isn't something I think either of you is willing to do. I'm sure you can work this out...somehow."

     Her words did little to lighten my mood, but I gave her a small smile and nodded, "Thanks for telling me the truth, Chiara."

     She squeezed my shoulder gently, "I know you're doing this for your own reasons, but I appreciate this more than you'll ever know. So really, I'm the one who should be doing the thanking."

     "This whole situation doesn't bode well for anyone, and I need to help keep my friends and family safe. If I can, anyway." I tried to give her a brave smile even though I wasn't feeling that way.

     "You're alright Ron Weasley," She nodded in approval.

     "Thanks."

     Her light laughter tickled my ears before she sniffed my neck and scrunched her face in disgust.

     "Hey! What's that face for?"

     She covered her nose, "I was just checking to see if you'd taken the wolfsbane."

     "Oh," I gave her a disgusted look that matched hers to prove that I'd ingested the nasty, bitter potion that she swears should help keep werewolves from wanting to use me as a chew toy.

     "You smell of it up close, and it masks your natural spicy-sweet odor."

     I scrunched my face in confusion, "Spicy-sweet?"

     Her cheeks flushed, and she nodded, "Yep."

     "What's that su—"

     "We can discuss body odors some other time, Ron. Right now, we need to go." The stern look in her eyes told me that I wasn't going to win this battle.

     "Fine," I rubbed my hands together, in an attempt to pump myself up as well as stop thinking about Snape touching Mione—as I'd unwillingly envisioned all night long. "Who's in charge now that Greyback is dead?"

     "Oh, uh." Without another word, she grabbed my hand and apparated us to a forest a short ways away from a small house that looked like it had seen better days.

     "Fenrir's alive," she shifted her weight, pale eyes nervously darting around the oak and evergreen filled forest.

     "Pff, figures that Snape couldn't kill him!" I complained in a hushed voice as I eyed the area for movement between the forest's vegetation.

     She shook her head, "He should have been dead, but one of the house-elves in Australia managed to break him out of Snape's trap. With werewolf regenerative capabilities he's looking almost as ugly as usual."

     I sighed heavily, "Brilliant. You mean Fenrir's fine and will be more than happy to kill me?"

     Nodding, she added to my worries, "He's hurting, but he likes pain, so it's acting more like fuel than a hindrance. Plus, he feels like getting some revenge for his fur being singed."

     "You mean Snape?"

     She nodded slowly, "Mentally, Greyback's not firing on all four cylinders—if you know what I mean."

     "Being cooked inside a sarcophagus could have something to do with that." Even though I hated Snape with every fiber of my being at the moment, I couldn't deny I'd like to have seen what should have been Greybacks overdue demise at the Potion Master's hand. 

     Chiara suddenly froze with the exception of her eyes furiously darting around.

     "What is it?" I spoke quietly enough for her dog hearing to pick up.

     "Someone's coming," she whispered worriedly.

     A crunching of brush nearby jolted her into action, and she waved her wand at me. The next thing I knew, she'd jumped into my arms with her small body pressed suggestively against me. Her soft mouth was working against mine in desperation—as if she was trying to find shelter from an oncoming storm.

     I had no idea what came over me as I pulled her closer, surprised at how small she was, and deepened the kiss. Convinced I was doing it for the betterment of our cover but knew that wasn't everything—I liked the feeling of being desperately needed. I hadn't felt that way since... the war.

     A deep voice boomed behind me, "What's going on here, Lobosca!?"

     She pulled back and gave me a warm smile before wrapping one arm around my neck further and the other played with my now dark brown hair, "Sorry Burke, my man hunted me down because I've been neglectful."

     My pulse was racing like I was the lead horse in the Kentucky Derby, but after all the years of misleading professors, parents and authority figures—lying on the fly was second nature to me.

     The deep voice chuckled, "The famous boyfriend that none of us have met or even believed you had."

     Wrapping my arms around the tiny woman while turning to face the intruder, I said in the cockiest voice I've ever conjured, "That's me." I ran my eyes over him like I was looking for a fight—maybe I was, "Have we got a problem... Burke?"

     The dark-haired man snorted, "Pff, I don't care if she needs a little sport. Alpha's called everyone together, and we've been looking for you, White Wolf."

     "Oh, ok." She kissed my cheek, "Bye, Bili. I'll see you on Friday."

     I nodded, pulled away from her, and before I could run like a frightened child, I was body blocked by the sizable werewolf, "You're not going anywhere, Bili!"

     Shit!

     "Burke, Fenrir won't like him interrupting pack business," She tried to reason with the fighter built man.

     "He'll be amused that you really have a boyfriend. We all thought you were lying."

     She smiled and leaned her head on my shoulder, "Well, now you know the truth."

     Burke's menacing dark brown gaze held me in place, "You gonna come with me nice and easy, or are you gonna make this hard on yourself, Wizard?"

     I tried to look non-pulsed, "Fine, I'll go with you. I'm hungry; maybe we can eat something?"

     Chiara laced her fingers with mine, "Sure, right after the meeting." She looked to Burke, "Lead the way."

     As we followed the burly man, Chiara gave me an apologetic look, but I wasn't upset with her. However, I couldn't say I was thrilled about being led to my possible death in such a way either.

     I mouthed at her, "It's ok. We can do this."

     Please, Merlin, don't make a liar out of me. Also, don't let me die for doing something this stupid.

     As we neared the hideout, the dingy-red front door noisily complained as it was thrust open, and an irritated Greyback stormed out. He shoved his singed face in front of Chiara's and yelled, "What the fuck did you bring here!?"

     As Chiara looked away submissively, several more burly sized men came out of the cabin. They surrounded the unfolding scene and sent my pulse skyrocketing.

     He raised his arm—preparing to hit her—and before I could think of something better to do, I grabbed his large hand.

     "Don't you dare hit my woman as I stand right here!"

     Fenrir's dangerous blue eyes pierced mine as he ripped his arm away, "She's part of my pack!"

     "She's my mate, and I don't recognize your authority over her when I'm present." I glared at him, "Or any other time."

     "A scrapper." His mood swing gave me whiplash as he chuckled out, "My kind of animal. Maybe I should make you one of us."

     Shit, that's not what I was hoping he'd say!

     I held my ground as he took a step closer to me and sniffed, "How did you find us, and why do you reek of poison?"

     I jutted my chin at him, "She's been dodging me lately, and I got to thinking she was cheating on me—so I followed her."

     He looked me over suspiciously, "And the stink?"

     "I'm a pure-blood, not a werewolf, and plan on staying that way. I take the infusion, so when we get going." I darted my eyes to hers and gave her a playful wink, "She doesn't take a chunk out of me. She might be tiny, but she's a wild one in bed."

     Chiara's mouth popped open in surprise, and she flushed as everyone started laughing.

     "Bili!" She smacked my arm enough to sting before wrapping her arm around my back and squeezed my far hip in encouragement. Surprisingly, it helped soothe my panicked nerves, and I wrapped my arm around her—pulling her close to my side—as the amused group continued laughing.

     "Good enough," Greyback grunted. "Pure-blood you say?"

     I nodded.

     He cocked a dark brow at me, "I didn't catch your last name."

     I offered him my hand—squeezing hard while staring into his eerie eyes, "Travers. Bilius Torquil Travers." 

     Please let this work!

     He studied me for a few moments, "Let's go meet our fate together, Bili Travers."

     A jolt of fear ran through me, and Chiara supportively squeezed my side as I swallowed hard in an attempt to keep my heart from escaping, "Sounds fine with me."

     He snorted as his blue gaze wandered over the forest, and he sniffed the fresh air a few times before yelling, "Move out!"

     At his command, four rail-thin people—at least I think they were human—stumbled out of the cabin.

     I sucked in a shocked breath, the hairs on my arms painfully prickled my skin, and I squinted harder to be sure I was really seeing Wendell Granger. Chiara told me all about the poor treatment and living conditions they endured at our first meeting; but the dirty, gaunt-faced, poorly dressed zombie-people looked far worse than I'd imagined.

     All right Weasley, time to prove to Mione that she means everything to you.

     Taking a deep breath to calm my nerves and hopefully stop shaking like a leaf, we walked deeper into the dense woods. 

     After a few minutes hike, we stopped. I watched in surprise as Fenrir made a large sweeping circle with his hand and a vortex opened between two massive oak trees with white light shimmering from its edges. Peering inside, there was a worn stone path from the entrance leading through the vegetation and eventually curved out of sight.

     As we moved through the opening, a light whooshing sound could be heard. Once everyone was through Greyback waved his hand at the portal, and it closed—sounding like waves crashing on a rocky beach.

     We padded down the path for another fifteen minutes or so before spotting a large circular clearing that was outlined with black stones a short distance ahead. The air within the obsidian stonework seemed to shimmer, and there was a slight buzzing noise coming from that direction as well.

      "Surround the clearing and shift." Greybacks eyes locked on the little blonde at my side, "Except you." He jerked his head at me, "Keep him out of trouble."

     Chiara nodded, and we moved to hide in some bushes near the clearing. 

     Clothing was discarded, and naked people shifted into werewolf form as they disappeared into the foliage. 

     "The Grandmaster summons me, and I have brought an offering!" Greyback's baritone voice filled the air and stopped all animal noises from the surrounding greenery.

     Grandmaster!? Offering!? I thought we were dealing with pure-bloods, not cultists. What in Merlin's grey beard is really going on here?

     Suddenly the buzzing noise ceased, and the shimmering air dissipated. Greyback moved into the stone clearing and came to a stop in the center with Wendell Granger and the other zombie people.

     As if they'd been part of the trees until moments ago, a dozen masked, black-clad figures came forward and stood at the edge of the circle—surrounding the newcomers.

     The tension in the air was rising like the afternoon temperature in the Sahara Desert, and I had to resist the temptation to run away as fast as possible and never look back.

     Everyone but the New-Maj's bowed their heads as a dark plume of smoke whirled about before touching the ground, and a tall figure materialized from the cloudy air. The figure's robes were black like the others but were also embroidered with intricate silver-work, making it evident that that person was the Grandmaster.

     Without a word, the black and silver-clad figure circled the zombie looking members of the group, and the temperature suddenly dropped at least ten degrees—reminding me of dementors.

     I noticed Greyback starting to shift his weight as if he was becoming rattled just before the figure held a black-gloved hand up. The giant werewolf's skin slowly paled to a light blue hue, and he appeared to have been frozen. I heard wheezing coming from him as his body levitated in front of Wendell Granger.

     A light chuckle tickled my ears and looked over at Chiara who was looking at the whole ordeal with a massive grin on her small face. When she saw me looking at her, she whispered, "Sorry, you're disturbed by my happiness about this, but I hate Fenrir and want him dead."

     I couldn't blame her for feeling that way, especially after the things she'd told me she'd been forced to endure. I leaned in closer, "I'm guessing that the Grandmaster is also the Ice Queen?"

     "If I were a betting gal, I'd place money on it."

     "Tell me," The figure's icy tone sliced through the air, bringing my attention back to the show in the circle. The Grandmasters black-gloved hand moved, and Fenrir slowly drifted in front of each zombie-person. When he had looked at each of them, he was turned back towards the leader. "Do these people look healthy to you?"

     The Grandmaster dropped her hand, and sounds of glass shattering filled the air as a layer of ice cracked away from the helpless werewolf leader. Frozen shards scattered into the surrounding dirt as Greyback fell to the ground, gasping for air.

     "Well, Fenrir?"

     "We give them food, but they don't eat much," He wheezed.

     "Are you telling me that you're incapable of taking care of them?"

     "Grandmaster, they only do what they're told. Never thinking for themselves. I even have to tell them to shower and take a shi... use the restroom."

     "We invested a lot of time and resources into this venture; and I entrusted them to you, to keep them healthy, safe, and for training—thinking you were capable." Her voice dripped with disdain, "And you have the nerve to bring these before me!"

     "I'm sorry."

     The leader pointed a gloved finger at Fenrir, and a large ice shard shot through his thigh. He convulsed and ground his jaw, looking like he was going to scream in pain but didn't even whimper.

     "What?"

     "Thank you for showing me I was wrong, Grandmaster." Fenrir ground out between labored breathing.

     The woman circled behind the sitting werewolf and yanked his head by his dirty-brown hair to look at the new-maj's, "There's only four of them. Where is Monica Granger?"

     He cleared his throat, "There was a complication in Australia."

     The tall figure shoved his head forward, knocking his face into the ground and held her hand out as if projecting an invisible force keeping him pinned to the earth. "Explain."

     Greybacks scrunched his face in obvious discomfort as if his head was being squished, "Se—Severus Snape, Hermione Granger, and two others infiltrated Kizzy's place. They managed to take off with Monica."

      "At least they're doing as expected." There was a few moments pause before she spoke again,  "Did you know that for hundreds of years, that particular piece of Outback has never been trespassed upon? With that bit of knowledge, explain to me how it's possible that it was found at such a sensitive time."

     Instead of giving another answer that most likely would get him further injured, he remained quiet and unmoving.

     "That's disappointing, Fenrir. Very disappointing." The figure turned away—releasing the invisible hold on Greyback, and he clambered to his feet as she spoke to those gathered, "Does he deserve to keep trying, my Pets?"

     The group stayed quiet for a few moments before she spoke, "We have decided to ask a final question, and its response is what will decide your fate."

     Greyback nodded slowly while looking around at the gathered masked figures nervously.

     "Are they performing magic as well as expected?"

     Greyback's shoulders relaxed, and his voice no longer sounded worried, "Better than expected, Grandmaster."

     "Let us have a demonstration, shall we?"

     "Duel," Greyback commanded while pointing at Mr. Granger and another man.

     Without hesitation, Wendell threw a spell that was immediately blocked by the other zombie man. As bright flashes of light from the scuffle tried to blind me, I stared dumbfounded at the whole situation even though I'd been told—it was too much to comprehend.

     Once Wendell had been knocked out cold by the other fighter, the leader laughed delightedly—sending chills down my spine.

     A popping noise sounded a short distance away, and Chiara and I ducked down in time to see a group of people apparate near the stone path. The new arrivals spoke for a few moments before dispersing.

     When I could finally see some faces, I sucked in a surprised breath, "It's Harry, Hermione, Snape, and a few others from the Ministry." 

     What's Harry doing here!?

     Chiara's eyes were wide in surprise, and then she looked into mine as a huge smile plastered itself across her face. "I might actually be free of this insanity!"

     My heart rate was astronomical, and the adrenaline flooding my system from all this 'adventure' already had me on edge, but then I felt like I'd been violently punched in the gut as the Potions Master possessively pulled Mione against him and kissed her.

     I stopped breathing as I did my best not to freak out... or throw up.

     When they parted lips, she ran her small hand through his greasy hair and smiled warmly at him. My heart shattered into millions of pieces inside my heavy body as I realized the smile I used to have given to me was no longer mine to bask in.

     You lost her, Weasley. Why are you still here?