Benedicta tu in mulieribus…
Arthur Weasley sat out in the backyard with his older brother Bilius, discussing Quidditch and enjoying the late sunshine of a July evening.
Bilius was a Chudley Cannons fan, for reasons that escaped the rest of the family but were probably connected to Bilius’s inability to stay employed longer than a month at a go. Arthur mainly liked poking fun at his brother over his love for the Cannons, which Arthur viewed as foolish in the extreme when he could be supporting a far superior team like Puddlemere United.
He was just grinning and feeling superior over this when his girlfriend appeared in front of him with a loud crack.
He hadn’t been expecting to see her this evening, since she was supposed to be out with her girlfriends, and he started to smile at Molly Prewett with delighted welcome when he got a good look at her face, and his smile dropped.
She was obviously terrified, but it was something more. Arthur recognized it, though he wasn't sure he'd ever really seen it on her face before. Horror. His stomach slipped down into his shoes, and he knocked over his bottle of butterbeer in his haste to rise, the liquid spilling onto the grass as he rushed to her side.
“Molly, what happened? What's wrong?”
Bilius, beside him, had also scrambled to his feet in alarm. “Molly, are you okay?”
“You have to come with me,” she said frantically, completely ignoring his brother. “I need your help, please Arthur-”
“Of course I-”
She didn't let him finish his sentence, but grabbed his hand and immediately turned over her shoulder. He hadn't had time to hold his breath, to make his mind ready before she Apparated, and it left him feeling slightly sick to his stomach when they emerged from the pressing darkness.
They reappeared on a street he didn't recognize, crowded with Ministry officials and Aurors, Magical Law Enforcement personnel hurrying between them. Arthur glanced around, trying to figure out where they were, and then looked up and saw the Dark Mark in the air above them.
He stared up at the green skull, the sick feeling growing worse. Something horrible had happened here.
It dawned on him in the next second whose house this must be, and his eyes scanned the façade. This had to be Cecilia's home. He'd been to Hattie's new flat and to her mother's home, and he knew Petula lived in a rural part of Yorkshire, and Siobhan in a small rented room in a wizarding area of London. This was obviously London, but quite a nicer neighbourhood than Siobhan's was likely to be. It couldn't be anyone else but Cecilia.
“Good Lord,” he breathed.
“Arthur, hurry,” Molly said, tugging on his arm. Her eyes were still full of panic. Arthur did not want to see what was inside that house.
“They said she had to leave or they would lock her away in St. Mungo's, and I can't get her to go, I need you to help-” Molly was almost incoherent as she led the way up the front stairs and into the Fletcher house.
“Who? Who has to leave?”
Molly stopped at an open door, and said brokenly, “Siobhan.”
Arthur had tried to prepare himself, but when he looked in the dining room, it was worse than he'd thought.
Mr. and Mrs. Fletcher's bodies were stretched out on the floor, with Ministry officials examining them. Arthur's eyes slid away from them quickly; he couldn't stand to see his boss, his mentor that way. Mr. Fletcher had done so much to launch Arthur's career, treated him as his protégé and introduced him to the world of Ministry politics. But looking away wasn't any better: Cecilia lay near her parents, stretched out on her stomach with her head turned to one side, her eyes open and unseeing, and Siobhan was kneeling at her side, slowly stroking her hand and murmuring something in a low voice. She seemed quite unnaturally calm, and her face was dry. Arthur felt the sick swooping in his belly again, watching Siobhan. She should have been crying, but she wasn't, only kneeling there, holding Cecilia's pale hand.
Molly's face was streaked with tears as she crouched down next to her friend, trying to avoid looking at Cecilia's body, and laid a hand on Siobhan's shoulder.
“Siobhan, dearest, we have to leave.”
“No,” Siobhan said, her voice dry and hoarse.
“Siobhan, you must-”
She slapped Molly's hand away, shouting, “No! I won't leave her!”
Molly glanced up at Arthur helplessly. He came forward and dropped into a crouch next to her, but his eyes couldn't help going to Cecilia's face. She looked different. He'd seen dead bodies before, but they had been grandparents and other elderly relatives, at the end of long lives. Despite this knowledge that death altered faces, changed the familiar to the unknown, it still jarred him to see Cecilia's face gone slack and still with death. She wasn't Cecilia any more. He reached over and gently closed her eyes, then turned to face Siobhan.
“Siobhan,” he murmured. “She's gone. There's nothing more we can do for her. It's time for us to leave and let the Ministry do their job.”
She didn't appear to hear him. She was whispering again, the words tumbling out too fast for him to understand, and she clearly wasn't going to comply on her own, so he reached out and lifted her to her feet.
Siobhan suddenly attacked him, punching and scratching as she tried to get away, tried to kneel back down next to Cecilia's body. He held her on her feet as she fought him, and finally, not knowing what else to do, he simply bent down, wrapped his arms around her hips, and carried her out of the house.
Molly walked beside him, her tears falling steadily now, and he could hear her apologizing to Siobhan for taking her away, saying they had no choice, but he couldn't really focus on her. Siobhan was heavier than she looked, and she wasn't coming along quietly. He set his jaw, hoping he wouldn't drop her on the stairs. She was still hitting him as he carried her away, yelling Cecilia's name and cursing at him.
When they reached the street, he set Siobhan down, hoping to comfort her now she was away from the scene, but she shoved away from him and turned over her shoulder, disappearing with a loud crack. His last glimpse of her face showed an expression of rage and desperation, but still no tears.
Molly looked stricken, staring at the spot where Siobhan had Disapparated. “We'll never find her,” she said softly. “Oh Arthur, what are we going to do?”
“She'll be all right,” he said, hoping this was true. “She'll come back eventually.”
Molly threw herself into his arms, and he hugged her tightly, standing there in front of the Fletchers' house, the crowd of Ministry and law enforcement personnel flowing around them. He looked up at the Dark Mark in the sky again, then put his head down on Molly's, and held her while she cried, stroking her back and hoping he could absorb some of her grief simply by holding her, hoping his own would be lessened as hers was. It was a few moments before he realized that he was crying as well.
He stared blankly at the street for a few minutes, watching the Obliviators taking care of any Muggle passers-by, and it occurred to him that someone was missing from the scene of devastation, someone who should have been at Cecilia's side. He pulled back so he could see Molly's face.
“Has anyone told Reid?”
Molly's eyes widened, the colour draining from her tear-stained cheeks. “Oh my God.”
“I'll tell him. You don't have to do it. I'll go to his flat and... I'll tell him, Molly.” He hugged her again.
“I need to tell Hattie and Petula,” she sniffed, wiping the tears from her cheeks. “We were supposed to meet at the pub tonight. I got an emergency Floo from the Ministry when they couldn't get Siobhan to leave – she put me as one of her emergency contacts on her Apparition license, they said, along with... with Cecilia.” Her voice faltered a bit. “Hattie's probably worried that we're not there.”
“I'll take you to the pub, and then I'll go to Reid. Will you be all right with the girls?”
She nodded. “Are you sure? Hattie and I could-”
He didn't want her to have to break the news to Reid. It would be bad enough when she told her other friends. “I'll do it. I'm his friend, I can tell him what happened.”
“All right.” Molly clung to him again, standing on tiptoe to kiss him. “Thank you, Arthur.”
Hattie was standing outside the Leaky Cauldron when they arrived, with Petula next to her, both of them looking very worried. Hattie's expression slid to panic when she saw her best friend's tear-stained face, and she rushed forward.
“Molly, what's wrong?”
“Oh, Hattie!” Molly flung her arms around her, sobbing again.
“No one goes home alone tonight,” Arthur said to Petula, who had her hand over her mouth. “Let Molly and Hattie take you home to your parents, then Hattie, you stay with Molly tonight. I don't want you alone in your flat.”
Hattie and Petula nodded their agreement. Petula's eyes were round with fright. “Arthur, what's going on?”
“Molly will explain. I'm sorry, Petula.” He patted her shoulder gently. “I have to go. Stay together, all right?”
He knew it was foolish, but he felt better leaving Molly and her friends with the knowledge that they wouldn't be alone. There was some small safety in numbers, at least, and he rather thought they wouldn't stay at the pub long once Molly had explained what happened.
He Apparated to Reid's new flat, and took the stairs two at a time, but when he stood outside Reid's door, one hand poised to knock, he couldn't do it.
How could he tell his friend that the love of his life was gone?
Arthur had to take several deep breaths before he could bring himself to knock on the door. It took a few minutes for Reid to open it, and he waved Arthur inside without really looking at him, obviously unconcerned by his friend's unexpected arrival.
“Come on in, Arthur. Want a butterbeer?”
Arthur ignored this, trying to catch Reid's eye as he wandered over to the kitchen and pulled a bottle of butterbeer from a box on the counter, casting a cooling charm on it so the bottle frosted over.
“Reid- put that down, mate, we have to talk.”
Reid took a long pull from his drink, gazing at Arthur expectantly. “Yeah?”
Arthur stared at him. He wasn't sure how to put it into words, how to find a way to break Reid's heart without breaking him. “Reid... You...”
“Spit it out, man. You look as if you'd seen a Grim.”
“It's Cecilia. She...” Arthur took a deep breath. He didn't know how to do this, didn't know how to say it. He felt too young, and older than the ages at the same time. “I'm so sorry. There's been an attack on her family. Reid, none of them survived.”
Reid stared at him. The bottle of butterbeer slid from his fingers, smashing against the floor, the golden liquid bubbling over the tiles. Reid didn't seem to notice. “What?” he said blankly.
“It was the Death Eaters-”
“I just saw her this afternoon,” Reid said loudly, talking over him. “What are you on about? Arthur, you're not- She can't- I just saw her-”
“I'm sorry,” Arthur said again, helplessly. “She's gone, Reid.”
“You're wrong.” Reid pushed past him, going out to the hallway outside his flat. Arthur followed him, and when Reid Disapparated, Arthur grabbed his arm.
They reappeared exactly where Arthur had suspected Reid was going, on the street outside Cecilia's house. The Dark Mark was still in the air over the house, but there seemed to be fewer Ministry officials wandering about.
Reid looked up at the Mark and staggered back. Arthur put a hand out to steady him, but Reid shook him off and took off at a run up the stairs and into the house, calling for his girlfriend. Arthur dashed after him.
“Cecilia! Cilia, where are-” Reid stopped abruptly at the door to the dining room. Arthur peered in over Reid's shoulder as he stood, stock-still, staring into the room.
The bodies had been moved so they lay side-by-side and covered by sheets, but it was very clear that there were three bodies in the room. Arthur glanced over at Reid, but he was still frozen.
“Come on, mate, let's go,” he murmured.
One of the Ministry people, a short little witch, came toward them with her hands out to shoo them away. “You can't be here-”
“I want to see her,” Reid said, his voice sounding overly loud in the hushed room.
The witch looked at him for a few minutes, and when he finally turned to meet her eyes, she took a little step back and nodded. Reid moved forward slowly, dropping to his knees next to the sheet-draped forms. He seemed to know immediately which one was Cecilia, and for a few minutes he simply knelt there, one hand rubbing his forehead, his eyes wild and mad.
Finally he reached out and gently pulled the sheet back. Arthur looked away. He didn't want to see Cecilia's body again. He could hear Reid breathing jerkily and knew his friend was crying, but he thought he ought to give him his space to grieve, so he stayed in the doorway and waited.
Arthur didn't know how long he stood there, waiting and watching as the officials bustled about, but finally he heard the Ministry witch saying quietly to Reid that it was time to go. Reid murmured a thank you in return, and got to his feet swiftly. Arthur followed him back outside.
“How did you know-” Arthur began.
“She's taller than her mum,” Reid said shortly, anticipating his question. “I'm going home. Bye, Arthur.”
Before Arthur could say anything else, Reid had disappeared. Arthur sighed, his shoulders sagging, and Apparated home, the image of the Dark Mark still burned into his brain.